Images
by Denise Nicole
Summary: Pictures don't always tell the whole story... Now Complete!
1. Prologue

_Images_

_Denise N. Rodier_

A/N: This story started off from watching one DA ep, and going, "Hey, I wonder why..." Quite some time later, I've finally finished what became of that thought. I'll post chapters every 2 or 3 days until the end. There are heavy spoilers from Cold Comfort through Rising. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks: I owe major kudos first to the Almighty Alaidh, who was an angel to beta this for me. I owe other major kudos to Kyre, first for her transcripts, which can be found at darkangelkyre.8m.net, and secondly for her amazing assistance in seeking doorknobs and lighting.

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_Prologue_

Original Cindy slowly made her way back to the rat-haven hellhole she called an apartment. The shaking had stopped, but her entire body seemed to hurt. A physical reminder of the terror that had gripped her. She would have loved nothing better than to lie down for about a week and dream away the nightmare of that horrific day.

_But you know you'd hang on it anyhow, no matter how much it sucked. Every second in this broke down world counts. If it didn't, what would be the point of living for another one? _

She couldn't help but laugh as she walked down the graffiti-filled hallway of her floor, thinking back to the day she'd called her friend a mystery. Well, the mystery had finally been revealed.

Original Cindy turned a corner, and felt the laughter die in her throat. She could see a body that she recognized as her super, sprawled in the hall, near a door that was half-ripped off its hinges.

Her door.

Her heart began to race as she cautiously approached it, knowing that if any of those super freaks were still around, she'd have no chance. She carefully looked around the edge of the door, and gasped at what she saw. She stepped through the doorway, and knew that even the rats wouldn't have the place now.

It seemed as though a tornado had touched down in the middle of the room. Not a surface had been left untouched. Everything had been swept off of the kitchen table and now lay broken on the floor. Even her bed had been ransacked. But even amidst all the chaos, Original Cindy found her eyes drawn to one calm space. She frowned for a split-second as she examined that blank spot on her refrigerator. Her eyes began to tear as she realized that the picture of her and Max was gone.

Original Cindy collapsed on the wreckage on the floor. It had taken months to get Max in a picture. The girl shied away from cameras constantly. No matter who was trying to take the snapshot, Max would twist and maneuver herself until she was out of the frame. And oftentimes, no one noticed until they got the film back and noticed Max wasn't there. But for whatever reason, one bright, sunny day when Sketchy whipped out his camera, Max looked at Original Cindy and edged her bike closer. Max gave her one of the most brilliant smiles Original Cindy had ever seen before turning towards the camera. Original Cindy had barely had enough time to shake away her amazement before Sketchy took the shot. And after he had it developed, Original Cindy begged, bribed, and beat him until he gave her that picture. Every day, she saw it before she went off to that worthless job of hers, and knew that no matter how bad Normal could get, how small the tips were, how long the runs were, she knew that Max had given her that one moment. That was enough to make the day all good, all the time.

And now it was gone.

The tears ran down her face, first in a small trickle, then a stream, and then a flood. She sobbed, mourning the loss of her innocence that day. Not just the innocence that the super freaks had stolen, but the innocence that Max had taken, as well. She hadn't meant to, but just her revelation had stripped it from Cindy. Stripped away the blissful ignorance she had lived with all her life. Even amidst the ruin of a world that had once been so powerful, she had always believed that there was something good in the spirit of the people.

After hearing Max's story – at least the parts her friend would share – Original Cindy wasn't so sure anymore. She had uncovered a darkness that she hadn't even dreamed existed. And that very knowledge felt like a smudge on her soul.

She cried for several long, painful minutes, before the tears finally slowed and dried. She didn't move, though. Just continued to huddle among the wreckage, until she began to drift off.

And in those moments between consciousness and sleep, she realized something. She had known. She had known for a long time. She just never had let herself believe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1 - Taking Comfort from the Cold

_Coming Monday, August 18_


	2. Chapter 1 Taking Comfort from the Cold

_Chapter 1 - Taking Comfort from the Cold_

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_Knock, knock._

"Whoever is bangin' at this hour is gonna get a piece of my hand upside their flat head," Original Cindy mumbled as she rubbed her bleary eyes. She'd been out late with Sketchy and Herbal Thought, celebrating the "success" of keeping Jam Pony in its rightful place – out of the hands of Mr. Sivapatha…whatever. She was just about to crawl into bed to sleep off the consequences, when she'd heard a knock at her door. She'd paused, hoping, praying it would go away, but it just repeated…and repeated…and repeated.

As she reached the door, she had already begun to give the knocker a piece of her mind. "I don't care what you sellin', Original Cindy ain't buyin'. Unless you got flat-assed two-leggers. Then I might give you a chance on the try and buy dealio. If not, I—" She flung open the door, and stopped. "Max? What the _hell_ are you doing…_here_?"

Max smiled a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Nice to see you, too," she quipped.

Original Cindy peered at her friend. She would have sworn Max had been crying. Except Max didn't ever cry. "Sorry 'bout that, boo. It's just…have you ever dropped your pretty self by my digs in the middle of the night? Hell, have you ever even hit my crib before?"

"I've been here before."

"I mean on your lonesome."

"I'm here now," Max replied impassively.

Cindy sighed. Something was seriously wrong here, but she couldn't quite put her manicured finger on it. "You're always welcome to swing by, Max. Original Cindy just didn't expect you, is all. What do you need?"

Max looked down the dark hallway. She was starting to feel like this might have been a bad idea. She probably shouldn't have come by, but… "Kendra's out. Couldn't sleep." _Alone._

_Something's happened,_ Cindy thought. _But I ain't even gonna ask. Sistah girl loves her mysteries, and I've got a feeling this is gonna be one of those I don't need solved._ "Well, you're welcome to drop your boots here, hang a while, if you need."

This time, Max's relieved smile did brighten her dark eyes. "Thanks, boo."

"Anytime," Original Cindy grinned. She stepped out of the doorway and gestured towards the interior. "I'd tell you to make yourself at home, but it ain't much of a home. Just a squat spot 'til I can move up in this world."

Max did a quick scan of the interior, as much to check for trouble as to check out the place. She was still a little jumpy. "You've got nice digs. Real digs."

"Don't even go there. Yours are real, too. A bit of paint and it'd be nicer than this dump, at a cheaper cost."

Max shrugged and looked back at her friend. "We've got paint."

Original Cindy couldn't help but snort. "All that graffito in your kitchen don't count as paint. Wouldn't you want it to look like something?"

Max stared at her blankly. "It looks like a kitchen. What else should it look like?"

Original Cindy shook her head. "Your butch side is showing again. I swear…" She stopped and smiled. "Well, you look like you gonna' be bouncing for a while. Why don't you cop a squat down on that couch while I make us some popcorn and java? Then we'll drop in a flick and bring out that girlie side that I know is in there somewhere."

Max chuckled as she slowly walked over to the couch and sat down.

Cindy headed into the kitchen, hoping she even had coffee somewhere. She pulled open one cabinet, and thankfully found enough grounds to make a couple of cups. Briefly glancing at the refrigerator, she smiled at the picture of her and Max there. 

"You missed a good show today, boo." She put the grounds into an old percolator, added water, and set it on her poor excuse for a stove. Turning, she began the hunt for popcorn. "I swear Normal was going to shit himself when Mr. Sivaboy never 'showed.' 'Course, he _was_ about to shit himself anyway." 

Giving up on the popcorn, she turned back to the stove as the kettle began to steam. "If he _ever_ finds out what his coffee was spiked with, that'll be the end of my days at good ol' Jam Pony." She laughed. "'Course that might not be the worst thing to happen, right, Max?"

No response.

"Max?" Cindy called, turning towards her living room. She crossed back to the room and sighed. "And she says she doesn't sleep."

Max was curled up on one end of the couch, fast asleep, her head resting on the back. It didn't look like the most comfortable position in the world, but it didn't seem to bother Max.

The dark skinned woman tiptoed towards her bedroom to grab a blanket. She laid the thick flannel over her sleeping friend. Original Cindy had never seen Max sleep before, and was amazed at how young she looked. She reached over to smooth the hair away from where it had fallen over the side of her face, but jerked her hand back like it had been burned. She leaned closer, hoping she wasn't seeing what she thought she was.

It was so small, almost unnoticeable. Cindy wasn't even sure how she had seen it. Them. High, right underneath Max's jaw line, was a series of small scratches. Two lines of them, running parallel to each other, with some light bruising that just now seemed to be coming out. 

A chill ran down Original Cindy's spine, as she ran her fingers lightly along the marks. She'd seen enough cop dramas and crime shows to recognize them for what they were. Ligature marks.

Someone had tried to strangle Max.

Original Cindy closed her eyes and said a small prayer. She could only imagine what had happened to her best friend that dark night. "Who hurt you, baby girl?" she whispered to the sleeping woman, with no response.

Cindy dropped into a chair across from the couch, determined to stay awake as long as possible, to make sure nothing else happened to Max that night. But, at some point, her eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep.

The sun gleaming happily through the window woke her. She blinked a couple times, rubbed her eyes, and glanced at the couch.

Max was gone.

Original Cindy's heart flipped, wondering why Max hadn't said goodbye. She took a deep breath and stood, thanking God that Max had trusted her for those few hours that she had been there, and prayed that she would be safe. 

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Chapter 2 - When It All Goes to the Dogs

_Coming August 21_


	3. Chapter 2 When It All Goes to the Dogs

_Chapter 2 - When It All Goes to the Dogs_

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"I don't know. I'm just saying it kinda sorta looks like her," Sketchy said as he gazed at the wanted poster, dollar signs evident in his eyes.

Herbal Thought immediately leaped to Max's defense. "That paper there speaks of wicked things. Max is a righteous woman with no malice in her heart for no one."

Original Cindy concurred. "I know my girl. She's a badass, straight up, but she's not a killer."

Sketchy, however, was insistent. "I'm not saying she killed anybody. Just that... I see a resemblance."

It didn't help Original Cindy at all that Sketchy didn't think Max a killer. But Original Cindy was definitely beginning to think him an utter moron. "No, no. What you _think_ you're seeing is the fifty large reward in your pocket. But you better get your eyes right, and double-quick, too. Otherwise, what you're gonna be seein' is Original Cindy puttin' the smackdown—"

Herbal Thought quickly grabbed her by the arm before she could carry out her threat. He pulled her away and off towards the pickup desk, leaving her there to get a package as he walked away to deliver his.

Original Cindy reached a shaking hand across the counter to grab a package. The picture didn't kinda sorta look like Max. It was Max. She could feel it all the way down to her soul. 

_She's not a killer,_ she told herself repeatedly. She had a strong faith in that. But the flyer could mean that someone else had decided to hunt Max. Only a few days had passed since she had seen the marks on Max's neck. Maybe whoever had put them there was trying to find her…

Cindy shook the thoughts away. _Working myself up over somethin' that's probably nothin'. Max is probably on top of whatever it is._ She looked at the address on her package, and took off, intending to keep herself busy until lunch. Then she could ask Max herself what was on the up and up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes. Half an hour. A full hour finally went by before Original Cindy began to get worried again. Sure, her friend could always be counted on to be on the late side of time, but this was ridiculous. She took a quick, final glance at her watch before finally giving up and going to the pay phone. She dialed Max's pager number, and began to wait.

Soon, a distraction made his way into the hallowed pit of Jam Pony. Good Ol' Sam, Normal's prize stallion who had turned into a dud. And Normal certainly hadn't forgotten that fact. 

"Wow, you got a lot of nerve showing your face in here, pal!" Normal barked at Sam, who was striding down the ramp with a type of confidence he hadn't displayed the last time he graced the business.

Sam turned a cold blue-eyed glance towards Normal and asked sharply, "Where's Max?"

Normal tossed Sam his own patented version of the hairy eyeball. "Well, she didn't come back from her morning run. Imagine that. I had some high hopes for you, pal, but you just turned out to be like all the rest, didn't you? Just a great, big, fat goose egg." Normal turned his back and walked away, immensely hurt that his good judgment had turned out to be so bad.

Original Cindy, on the other hand, was highly amused. She was curious as to why he was looking for Max, and also a bit suspicious at his timely arrival.

Sam, for his part, seemed to remember Original Cindy, because as soon as Normal brushed by him, he immediately made a beeline for her. "Cindy…"

_That's Original, you job swiper._ "Well, what have we got here?" she replied saucily.

"I'm looking for Max."

She resisted rolling her eyes. That much had been obvious from the start. "Welcome to the club." Fortunately, she was saved from saying more by the ring of the phone. "Yeah?"

"It's me." Max replied.

Cindy had never felt relief flood through her so fast in her entire life. "Max—"

Sam yanked the phone away from her.

Original Cindy's eyes bugged out as he put the phone to his ear. Sam didn't know how close he was to having his testicles extracted through his throat.

"Max. It's Zack," he said into the phone.

"Who?" Original Cindy blurted without realizing it. Suddenly, her heart dropped down into her stomach, and the moment of relief she'd had now vanished in a swarm of butterflies. _Zack? Where did that come from?_

Zack didn't reply. He just continued his conversation. "Never mind that. We gotta get you out of town."

Fear coursed through Cindy's body as she asked, "Would somebody mind telling me what's going on here?"

Apparently they did mind, because Zack continued talking into the phone in some type of code, consisting of numbers, letters, and animals of the forest. After he finished, he hung up the phone, looked at Original Cindy, and left without a word of explanation.

Cindy looked after him, stunned by the events of the last…five minutes. She took a deep breath, and dialed Max's pager number again. There were three rings and then…

"I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up, check your number, and try again. I'm sorry. The number you have dialed…"

She slowly lowered the phone as the canned voice continued its annoying message. Five minutes. Five minutes and she had been completely shut out.

_What's going on here?_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy paced restlessly around her apartment. She hadn't been able to get any sleep the night before. She was too worried.

Max was missing.

She never came back to work that afternoon. She hadn't shown up at Crash that night. A quick call to Kendra proved that Max hadn't gone home either. And Logan's answering machine was full from all the messages she'd left. Nothing left to do now but wait…

And worry.

She paced into her kitchen, and glanced at the few pictures on the refrigerator. Max had a brilliant smile in the one photograph she was in. Could a killer smile like that?

"Stop that! You will not think like that!" Cindy shouted to herself in the empty apartment. "Thinkin' your boo is a killer is just as bad as thinkin' she's…"

Dead.

The thought terrified her like nothing she'd ever faced in her life. But facing the possibility that the reason Max was missing was because she was…

She quickly grabbed her jacket off a chair in the living room and ran out the door.

The streets of Seattle were cluttered with hopeless people, like usual. Original Cindy felt like she was just another one of the throng: alone, searching for something missing. She'd only gotten about a block before she saw the first flyer, stapled to a telephone pole. 

_Wanted for Murder,_ she read underneath the picture of Max. Not a perfect representation of her perfect-looking friend…but it would do. She quickly ripped the flyer down and tore off all the words around the image. She walked up to the first person she saw, and asked, "Have you seen this woman?"

The young woman popped her gum as she peered at the paper Cindy had shoved in her face. "No, but…isn't that the killer?"

Original Cindy glared at her, as she snapped, "No, she ain't. She's my _friend_ and she's gone AWOL."

The woman shrugged. "Sorry, man. Can't help."

OC already had begun to move onto the next person she could see…and the next…and the next. A few of the people she had asked had recognized Max, but only from the flyer. She'd begun to think she should have taken the picture from her refrigerator, but she didn't want anything to happen to it, since it was all she had. 

The sun burned high and bright overhead, as she worked her way through the streets. Hours went by, and as the sun began to sink towards the broken horizon of the city, her heart sank lower in her chest. She searched well into the dark of night, but she knew it was futile. 

_Like looking for a needle in a stack of needles,_ she thought to herself as she walked through the door of Crash. Then she smiled halfheartedly as she saw some of the familiar faces within. _Or like looking for one active brain cell in this place._

Herbal Thought was trying to console a moaning Sketchy, who was pounding his head on the bar top. OC walked over to them, leaned on the bar next to Sketchy, and asked, "What's the problem, boo?"

Sketchy looked up, and peered at Original Cindy through a haze of alcohol. "You all are slackers and ruffians. I don't know how Normal can put up with that mayhem every day."

Original Cindy thumped him on the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"S'what you get for calling me a slacker, you moron." Original Cindy shook her head. Even with the cloud of disillusionment that was circling around her, Sketchy never hesitated to be a momentary ray of sunshine…or radioactive glow. "So, what? You ain't man enough for Normal's job?"

Herbal chuckled as Sketchy tossed Cindy a withering glance. "You think _you_ might be?" He ducked as Original Cindy took another swing at him.

"Don't go there if you want to keep some of those precious little pieces of your body you keep stored south of the border," she teased. As she saw Sketchy's face begin to lighten, she rolled her eyes, realizing he'd given himself an idea.

"No, really, Cin. Are you man…er…woman enough to fill Normal's shoes? Really? Just for…say…tomorrow, at least? Normal should be back then. I swear," Sketchy pleaded.

"No."

"I'll pay you!"

"With what?" Original Cindy asked, knowing his pockets were at least as empty, or more so, than her own.

"I…uh…I'll be your love pimp."

"Not enough scrilla in the world, boo," she replied, taking a swig of his beer.

Sketchy dejectedly pulled his beer away from her, and signaled to the bartender to give OC one of her own. "Damn. It was a thought." He swallowed a mouthful of beer, and then another idea entered his brain. "Hey…what about Max?"

"Don't _even_ go there, Sketch," Original Cindy growled.

"But, I—"

"Don't!" She picked up the beer that had been set in front of her and downed about half of the contents, coughing a little as some went down the wrong pipe.

Herbal looked at Original Cindy with concern in his eyes. "You haven't heard from Max yet?"

Original Cindy shook her head slowly. "I'm worried something's happened. Like some money grubber like our friend Sketch here got his hands on her and turned her in to the po-po's." 

_Or worse._ Although, remembering Max's last experience with the police, she wasn't sure what _would_ be worse. Suddenly, she realized that both Sketchy and Herbal were looking at her strangely. "_What_?" she asked exasperatingly.

"You didn't hear?" Herbal asked.

"Hear what? Would one of you get your head out of the swiff clouds and drop me the word, please?"

"They caught the killer," Sketchy said.

Cindy's heart fell for the billionth time that day.

"Dude turned himself in," he continued. "The news whores have been blowing all the channels up with the story."

A slow smile crept across Cindy's face. "Dude? Dude! That's… that's wonderful. Wonderful!" She leaned across the bar and yelled to the bartender, "Another round for these two awesome men over here!" She pulled all the loose bills and change she had out of her pockets and dumped it on the bar in front of the stunned men. "Sketchy…I owe you," she said, grabbing his face, and planting a kiss smack on his mouth. She smiled and dashed out the door.

Sketchy rubbed his lips and turned to Herbal Thought. "I think I've just been repaid."

Herbal thwacked him upside the head.

"Ow!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy couldn't say that she slept the deepest sleep in the world that night, but at least she got some sleep. Enough to drag herself back to the grind Friday morning. She was still concerned that Max hadn't made an appearance yet. Cindy just hoped that she'd taken Sam…Zack's…word and gotten out of town for a few days. It would make sense. She'd told Sketchy and Herbal Thought both that Max wasn't a killer, but she definitely was a badass. And a badass like Max really didn't need to be hanging around when trouble was going down.

OC did all her runs without complaint that day, trying to keep busy. Although, she did get a short laugh when Normal staggered back into Jam Pony and Sketchy gave him a hug like she'd never seen before. And it was also highly amusing the quick way that Normal shoved Sketchy off. A short exchange, and Sketchy was gone with a package faster than Original Cindy had ever seen him go before.

"Where the fire truck is Max?" Normal yelled out from his post.

Original Cindy sauntered over to him. "Normal, you lookin' like that stick is shoved a little higher than usual."

Normal blanched. "Where is Max?" he repeated, softer this time.

"Homegirl got the word that some fool was tryin' to put her face to the killer's down at doughnut central, and now she's lookin' for some payback." OC grabbed a package and turned, grinning. "Wouldn't want to be that poor bitch she's huntin'," she added as she walked away.

It was a long run. So were most of the others. It seemed like Normal was doing his best to take all of his troubles out on her, but she didn't care. She was beginning to feel good.

Finally, the end of the day came and she walked back into Jam Pony…and saw Max. 

Her friend was standing at her locker, pulling her jacket out, getting ready to leave, just like she'd done every other day since she'd started at Jam Pony. 

Sensing that someone was looking at her, Max turned, and saw Original Cindy standing there slack-jawed. She grinned that bright grin of hers and called, "Hey you!"

Original Cindy didn't move. "Where the _hell_ have you been?" she snapped.

"Here and there," Max replied vaguely.

"Here and there?" Original Cindy repeated in disbelief. "Here and _there_? Do you know how worried we were?"

Max's face softened, and an indescribable look came over it. It was almost as though she was…pleased. "You were worried?" she asked softly.

"The city's hard up for this killer, and you disappeared, and Sam came back, only to turn out to be Zack, and started speaking some mumbo jumbo about needin' you to bounce out of here. _I_ was worried," Cindy finally admitted.

Max slowly shrugged into her jacket and shut her locker door. She stepped over to her best friend and wrapped her arms around her tightly.

Original Cindy brought her arms up and hugged Max back. As Max kept holding the hug, Cindy began to think that all might not be good, especially when she felt Max begin to tremble. "Max?" she asked.

Max pulled away, her eyes bright and shiny, but the rest of the mask firmly in place. "Nothing," she answered. "Just…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. It's just…something came up."

"Anything I can help with?" Cindy offered immediately.

Max shrugged. "You can come to the hospital with me."

"The hospital? Why?" Something _was_ up.

Max shrugged again, and looked away. "Logan had surgery yesterday, and…"

"Logan!" Cindy exclaimed. "Oh, my God. That's why I couldn't reach him! You was with him all this time? Is he okay?"

"No. But part of the time. And yes. Now. So you gonna come with?"

"Of course, boo. As long as I get to stop on the way and pick up some inappropriately dirty get-well present," OC said, grinning.

Max laughed cheerfully. "That we can do." She swung one arm around Original Cindy's shoulders, and waved to a gaping Sketchy as they left the building. "Oh! I almost spaced! With that flyer haunting me yesterday, I decided that it might be best to get a new pager. Remind me to write down the new number for you later."

Original Cindy smiled. Shut out for a day, but ultimately let back in.

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Chapter 3 - In

_Coming August 24_


	4. Chapter 3 In

_A/N: Just a brief note to thank everyone who's reviewed. I really love this story, and it's nice to know that y'all do, too. :)_

_Chapter 3 - In_

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The next couple of months were pretty uneventful in Original Cindy's life. Beers were drunk at Crash, girls came and went just as quickly, and Max, thankfully, managed to stay out of trouble.

Didn't mean that fate didn't like to stir things up a little.

"I'm leaving work early today."

OC blinked, not entirely certain that the words she'd heard matched with the voice that produced them. She looked around the corner, and, sure enough, it was Normal speaking to a completely flustered Peabo. Not that she could blame the stunned bike messenger or anything. Days like this only came when the world ended…or when she got laid by a tripod.

Meaning she had to immediately go inform everyone, who was as surprised as she was…with the exception of Max, that is.

"Why is it guys are all so task-oriented? I mean, it's work, work, work, work, work," Max said, looking mildly irritated at the thought.

Original Cindy quickly did a double take at her friend. Seemed that Max had something on her mind. Only OC didn't have enough time to think about that, because Sketchy gave her a new thought.

"'Cuz otherwise, all we'd think about is sex, sex, sex, sex, sex," he replied smartly. Then his eyes brightened as a thought flitted behind them. "Maybe Normal's got a date."

The images that flooded into Cindy's mind just about caused her to black out. "Now that's just a bizarre thought. Normal…getting busy with someone." But a quick look at Normal grooming in the mirror proved too much to resist, and she recruited Max to check it out with her.

They only had to get within a few feet of Normal to smell what Herbal Thought had smelled. And it wasn't Lysol. "You look nice today," Original Cindy commented innocently.

"Thank you," Normal replied coolly. 

"Going to a funeral?" Max asked.

"No."

Original Cindy looked over at Max as she sniffed loudly. "Lilac," Max confirmed, proving that she was capable of sniffing out more than trouble.

OC continued with the interrogation. "So how come you're all macked out like a playa playa?"

Normal glared at the two messengers. "The reason it's called a personal life is because it's personal." He handed Max a package and shooed her away.

But as they walked away from the desk, they couldn't help with one last nudge at the grumpy man. "Booty call," they nodded in unison.

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Large, skinny, short, tall. Brown eyed, green eyed, blue eyed, red eyed. Green, with purple hair, and fangs… Original Cindy desperately tried to shake the thoughts out of her head. She couldn't imagine what kind of chick Normal was kicking it with. Nor did she want to. But some sick, diseased part of her brain couldn't help but try to imagine what creature would want…ew.

She'd hoped hanging with Max at Crash that evening would be able to take her mind off of Normal and his love life, but homegirl had an agenda of her own, which apparently involved the elimination of the male species. That in itself didn't bother Cindy too much; it'd open up some of the dating pool for her. However, it did bother her that apparently some man had given Max some trouble. And Original Cindy only needed one guess who.

"I don't understand women who need a man to make themselves feel complete," Max groused.

"Put the bullet right here," Original Cindy agreed, hoping a distraction would come along quickly. As much as she loved her friend, there were times Max tried to drive her to drink… more. 

Kendra arrived just then with a couple of guys, providing OC with a convenient distraction. Especially since one of the guys was apparently for Max. But then another distraction appeared on the televisions in the bar.

"Do not attempt to adjust your set…" the familiar voice of Eyes Only boomed out through the speakers.

One more man in the room was too much for Max, it seemed, who made her excuses and left.

"Bye, Mac," Sven called after her.

OC rolled her eyes. Kendra could sure pick winners. 

_Pink hair, yellow eyes,_ her mind dreamt.

_You shut up,_ she told herself, taking a thick swallow of beer, not looking forward to the evening's company of Kendra and her neckless wonders.

Unfortunately, her mind ignored her, thinking up more and more bizarre combinations for Normal and his Lady/Lord/Lapdog Love. It got to where it became difficult to even think, well, normal thoughts. It sure didn't help that Normal's friend Jorge came into Jam Pony the next day and began talking to him about his "young lady friend…beautiful female companion."

At least it ruled out Lord and Lapdog.

"It is hurting on my brain, trying to figure out who on earth would go out with Normal," Cindy said at the end of Max's man lament to Sketchy.

"There are a lot of freaks out there," Sketchy agreed, obviously experienced in that role. "So, who's coming with me on this run?"

She and Max just stared at him.

Panic flared up in Sketchy's eyes, as he pleaded with them. "Well, come on, guys! Clemson Street is deep in Rydin Forties turf."

"So?"

"So there's permanent gang wars going on down there. Please?"

Original Cindy held back her grin as Max rolled her eyes. "You are such a wuss. Let's go," Max said, as she and Sketchy turned and left.

_And you are such a badass,_ OC thought, just as Normal approached her with a package. 

"I have a run. 4711 Kings Road," he told her reverently.

Like usual, OC brushed him off. "I'm on break," she said stiffly, fully expecting him to give her hell for it.

"Well, whenever you get the chance," Normal amended.

Original Cindy spun and practically gaped at him. _The surprises just keep coming, don't they?_ "You okay?" she asked, truly concerned.

Normal wiped off the top of the package and handed it over. "It's a personal run, so be nice," he directed before walking away.

Cindy barely managed to get out the door of Jam Pony before her curiosity began to kick in full gear. _I've got it in my hands, the answers to everything…well, to my most burning question, at least._

But even she had some lines that she wouldn't cross. She had been born with some sense of honor, and morality. _And that's beyond even my realm,_ she thought to herself as she reached Kings Road, looking longingly at the package.

It sat on her palms so innocently, begging to be opened. Really.

_Open me,_ the package pleaded.

"I…I can't," Original Cindy told it.

_Sure you can,_ the package replied. _I have a convenient tab on one end for opening. Just pull in the direction of the arrow…_

"I _can't_," she repeated.

_You know you want to,_ it cajoled.

"I do want to," she admitted.

_Then do it. I won't tell,_ the package said, smiling a packagey smile.

Original Cindy grasped one corner, ready to rip it open, but stopped. "I can't do it. Not like this." She looked around, and spotted her bike where she'd parked it. She walked over to it. "But, if I was riding along, minding my own, and dropped it, and it got caught in the chains…" She bent down and tore the edge off using the well-worn gears. "And then the wheel was spinning so fast that it just spun around and flew off…" She shook the package hard and the purse dropped out of the inside. "And a car came along and gently ran it over, opening it," she decided, opening the snap. "And a toothless dog grabbed it up and softly shook everything out." She dumped the contents on the ground.

Looking around at the scattered materials, she widened her eyes innocently. "Oh, dear me! Look what happened here! What a mess. I must clean it up." She dropped to her knees and began to sort through the mess. The first thing that caught her eye was a prescription bottle. _A druggie?_ she thought, picking it up and turning it so she could read the label. _Premarin. A stupid druggie. All that is, is…estrogen._ An idea dawned, and she looked around at the part of Kings Road she was on. There were many women milling around this area, several of whom were oddly tall and muscular for women. 

Cindy grinned as she looked around for the driver's license. _This is too good to be true,_ she thought, picking up the small square card, reading the name. _Oh, shit…_

Five minutes later, all the contents were replaced, and she was staring eagerly at the door in front of her. "Let's see if you can get past the patented Original Dangle Detector…Louise," she murmured as she heard footsteps approach the door. It swung open, and there stood Louise…

…clad only in a towel.

Cindy felt her jaw hit dirt as she couldn't help but scan the woman(!) from head to toe, checking to see if anything was out of place. There was most definitely nothing out of place…and a couple of things in just the right place.

"Oh, my purse!" Louise squealed happily, reaching out and pulling the purse from Cindy's hands, letting her pale skin gently brush the darker skin that held it.

Cindy swallowed and smiled. "Uh…Nor—Mr. Ronald asked me to bring this to you, Lou— Louise."

Louise smiled charmingly. "Be sure to give him my thanks." She fluttered her eyelashes, before turning and shutting the door.

Original Cindy couldn't help but stare at the door for another few seconds. Her last view of Louise was certainly a nice one. One that she'd have to share with a few of her closest friends…

…who of course were shocked and appalled that Original Cindy had crossed the line into Louise's purse. "That's like an invasion of privacy," Sketchy, of all people, said in disbelief.

"Crossing the line, if you ask me," Max agreed.

Cindy sighed to herself. _I didn't ask you. But if it'll get your head out of those clouds, I'll ask again._ She shot both Sketchy and Max a pointed look. "You want to know what I found out or what?" At their united confirmation, she began to lay out the facts for them. Of course, a few definitions had to be supplied for the three-legged among them.

"Estrogen, basically. Yeah? So?" Max told Sketchy in reply to his query about Premarin.

_And here comes the grand finale._ "Then Original Cindy finds Louise Klein's driver's license. Only it says that Louise Klein is Louis Klein."

The looks on Max and Sketchy's faces were priceless. Sketchy said it best. "Normal's chick is a dude?!"

Max tried to defend Louise. "Come on, maybe she's got a brother or something."

Original Cindy shook her head, somewhat surprised that Max seemed to be the one missing the mark here. She would have expected it of Sketchy, although he _was_ one of those people willing to believe nearly anything. "No, girl. The part of Kings Road where she lives is very gender-friendly. It's where all the mista sistas reside. The lesbian mind could get seriously tampered with in that neighborhood."

"This and a human finger, all in the same day. It's deep," Sketchy said in awe.

"For real," Max agreed.

OC eyed the pair quickly, and saw that they were serious. She continued on laying out the line for them, just hoping Max hadn't gone and gotten herself in trouble. Again. "For real, for sure. Louise comes to the door wearing a towel, right out of the shower. I'm clocking her for nose hair, Adam's apple, miscellaneous male debris, but the bitch is fine. Even got back." _And what a back she got._

She laughed as Sketchy pointed out that it would be the "entertainment spectacle of a lifetime" when Normal found out his special friend was missing her special friend. It would be a show worth the wait.  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day couldn't come soon enough for Original Cindy. She was dying to talk to Normal, and see if he knew what was up… or wouldn't be up. But as Normal half-heartedly called out a hot run, she had the vague feeling that something hadn't gone well. "Speaking of hot runs, was that your sugar I delivered to on Kings Road yesterday?" she questioned, trying to lead him into a conversation.

Normal looked up at her, and she was surprised to see a dejected look in his eyes. "I said it's a hot run. Now, beat it."

Cindy's heart thumped at the look, and she took pity on him. "Hold on. Talk to me, Normal. Original Cindy understands the human heart."

Strangely enough, Normal decided to open up to her. "Well, we had a moment…or so I thought, and, uh…it passed."

Cindy knew that look well enough. She had worn that look several times herself. It was the look of a broken heart. "You liked her, huh?"

"Yeah."

"What happened, if I'm not out of line asking?" She was actually beginning to feel a little bad about the situation, considering she knew what was coming.

Normal paused briefly before saying, "Oh, it's just different interests, you know. I enjoy the company of women, and…apparently, so does she."

OC's eyes widened as she realized what he meant. "I feel you."

Normal sighed. "Actually, she asked me to, uh…give you her number. She found you 'alluring'…I think was the word."

She slowly took the piece of paper that Normal offered her. The small part of her that wasn't revolted was mildly flattered. But she smacked that part back right quick, and she got defensive on Normal's behalf, the first and last time she promised herself that would happen. "This bitch is getting you to pimp for her?"

"I am in the messenger business," he replied with a straight face.

_So the man has some streak of humanity in him after all,_ she thought. She then offered a small branch of hope to him. "The right one's out there for you somewhere, Normal."

"Yeah. Well, I shouldn't be pouring out my heart on company time. You better get going," Normal replied stolidly.

She walked off towards her bike, and was quickly joined by Sketchy. "So?" he asked eagerly.

She looked at the paper, mildly confused about the whole chain of events of the past few days. "Damn. Normal just gave me that half-a-heifer's phone number."

Sketchy, somehow, considered that a good thing. "Well, you going to call her?"

Original Cindy glared at him. "Mm-mm. 'Cause when you get right down to it, Original Cindy's just too damn straight to kick it with a science-fiction girlfriend." She crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it on the ground. Even though that small flattered part of her was begging her to go back and pick it up, she continued to walk away, knowing she had done the right thing.

Her mind remained in turmoil throughout the afternoon, but snapped back into place that evening as she saw Max walk into Crash with that rare, brilliant smile on her face. "Well, well, well, don't you look like the cat that ate the canary," OC teased.

Max's smile faltered briefly, but quickly snapped back into place. "This cat finally got her pasta," she said happily.

Original Cindy took in the sparkling eyes and the slightly flushed skin, and nodded knowingly. "Pasta? Is that what the lingo for that is these days?"

Max's brow wrinkled in confusion, and then her eyes widened as she suddenly realized where her friend's train of thought had derailed. "OC!" she hissed, glancing around, praying no one she knew had heard.

Cindy laughed, a deep, throaty sound. "Don't worry, suga. I won't tell anyone. Besides, I'm glad you and Logan kissed and made up. You lose your looks wearing a frown 24/7."

Max glared at her. "We did not kiss."

"Made up at least," Original Cindy clarified, shrugging. "Right?"

Max gratefully took the beer that the bartender slid over to her. She was quiet for a moment before finally agreeing, "Right."

_Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?_ "You okay, boo? You come in here looking all like sunshine and lollipops, and suddenly your old grey clouds are creeping back in."

Max sipped her beer, and shrugged. "I don't know, Cin. Something's doggin' me."

OC rolled her eyes. "Don't you go playin' that game again."

"Huh?" Max said, confused.

"Look, I understand more than you think. You may have this 'need for trouble' but that don't mean you have to go rollin' in it. You've had two good months. Now you tell me you going to go bounce back in it?" Original Cindy tried to glare at Max to get her point across, but the distant look in Max's eyes made her realize that this was something serious.

"I don't try to get in trouble. I actually thought I could get out. Managed it for a few days. But it keeps dragging me back in," she said, almost sorrowfully.

Original Cindy wasn't really sure how to reply to that. The Max she was seeing right now seemed such a far cry from the happy Max who had walked in, and even farther from the woman in a picture on her refrigerator. Words began to form, but she wasn't sure from where, or if they were even hers. "You know, it can only drag you in if you let it. But, if it looks that way, if you take it on first, and give it your all, then it doesn't get you, does it? You get it instead."

Max pondered that for a few seconds and then grinned. "How many beers you have before I get here?"

Laughing loudly, Cindy draped one arm around her friend's shoulders. "Enough to make me all philosophic-like."

Max chuckled along with her. "I kinda like this side of you."

"As long as you promise to at least _try_ to keep that pretty head of yours out of the thick of things, I'll try to play Plato more often," Cindy offered.

"Deal."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4 - Seeing Red

_Coming August 27_


	5. Chapter 4 Seeing Red

_A/N: Just gonna answer a few quick questions here. This is **NOT** a Max/OC slash fic. Sorry to disappoint anybody who was thinking it was. And as for Logan... the best answer I have for that one is to rewatch the S1 episodes in question. It's almost like playing "Where's Waldo?"...I had to do it to write this fic. :)_

_Chapter 4 - Seeing Red_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had started so simply. A basic question… 

"Hey, you bombin' Crash tonight?" Original Cindy asked Max as they were leaving Jam Pony at the end of another long day.

…with an easy answer.

Max shrugged and shook her head. "Nah. I'm headed home. Bath night, so I'm gonna try to chill and maybe get a couple things done."

Original Cindy smiled and clapped Max on the shoulder, giving her a hard squeeze. "Fine, boo. Just keep that pretty nose of yours out of trouble, hear?"

Max laughed cheerfully. "I'll try. No guarantees, though." She raised her hand with a small wave as they reached the corner where they parted. "Later!"

"Later!" Cindy echoed, turning away. She took a few steps, and turned back. Max was already gone, disappearing like usual. She shook her head. "Girl moves so fast, you'd think she actually had somewhere real to go, rather than that roach motel she lives in to cook herself a bath."

Original Cindy arrived at her own roach motel and looked around, sighing. She hadn't done a whole lot of cleaning lately, and the place reflected it. Even though the apartment itself was basically a dump, it didn't have to look like it. She sighed, feeling immensely guilty for letting it get out of hand, and began to clean.

Once she got going, scrubbing down the apartment became almost enjoyable. It also made her lose track of the time. It was well after dark when she finished, flicking a rag over the few last spots on her refrigerator, pausing to straighten the picture of her and Max before she turned to look at her clock. _Not too late to head to Crash,_ she thought, grabbing a jacket and heading out the door.

Original Cindy arrived to see most of the usual crew, sans Max. That didn't surprise her considering her friend's earlier comments. If Max could have her way, and unlimited hot water, bath night would last for days. 

"Over here!"

OC rolled her eyes at Sketchy's shout from his seat at the bar, not exactly needing the direction to find him. She slowly waltzed over, and was mildly surprised to see the television there tuned into one of the news stations. "What the hell are you two drinkin' that you're stuck on that?"

"Shhh!!" Herbal Thought hissed loudly, waving at her to quiet down.

Original Cindy's eyes widened at his harsh tone. Herbal had never raised his voice to her before. "What's going on?" she asked Sketchy.

He, too, was fixated on the television. "They're recapping the first day hearing events."

Her eyebrows knit in confusion. "What hearing?"

Both Sketchy and Herbal turned to give her a quick look. "You don't remember? The Steckler hearing?" Herbal asked.

Cindy paled, thinking of poor Theo, and slowly took a seat on one of the bar stools. "I can't believe I forgot that was going down this week." She was silent for the few seconds it took the reporter to switch to commercial. "What's happened, so far?"

Sketchy took a small swig of beer. His usual chipper, and slightly manic, demeanor was now sullen and quiet. "Not much. Opening testimony, mostly. A few people involved in some of the earlier trials, from that whole Sonrisa thing Eyes Only blew open back when, have spoken. They're gonna go over what should happen tomorrow in a minute."

Original Cindy nodded and motioned to the bartender for a beer. She watched as the last commercial ended, and the reporter came back on.

The young reporter shuffled a few papers around on his desk, presumably to attempt to look more important, before continuing with his report. "Tomorrow's testimony will include that of a witness who was originally thought to be dead. 32-year-old Bruno Anselmo was presumed dead in a shoot out at Edgar Sonrisa's mansion last year that also ended up with the death of Sonrisa. Anselmo was also thought to be involved in this shocking event that was captured on hoverdrone."

The image on the screen switched to that of a hoverdrone viewpoint, high above the street. Cindy watched the familiar footage of two cars crashing into a third, blocking its escape on a Seattle highway. The occupants of all the cars began shooting before trying to either leave or escape their vehicles, depending on the viewpoint. She watched one man pull a woman out, who managed to run to safety. The man soon fell under a hail of gunfire. Another man pulled a young child out, and attempted to run with her, but he too was soon shot and fell, his body cradled around the young girl's as a last chance of protection. One of the men shooting at them rolled the man over to pull out the shrieking child…

Original Cindy knocked over her beer, barely hearing the concerned voices of Sketchy and Herbal Thought, instead totally focused on the face of the man.

Logan.

She had never connected the two before, the news image being just another news image, and Logan being just another man in Max's life. Cindy had only met him the one time in the bar, and hadn't seen him again until months later. By then, the news report had been forgotten, politeness had kept her from asking how Logan had ended up in the chair, and Max, being Max, never offered that information.

"I'm—I'm fine," Original Cindy barely managed to get out to her two concerned friends. "Just a little…startled."

"Your face is like that of a ghost's, my sista. Not your best color," Herbal joked, trying to cheer Original Cindy.

She shook her head, desperately hoping that some of the blood would return to her brain. "I've gotta jet," she said hurriedly, not even waiting for a response before quickly racing from the bar.

The night air was slightly damp, an eerie phantom of the seemingly ever present rain in Seattle. The sky, however, was fairly clear. So were Original Cindy's thoughts. Connections were being made that she had never thought of before, and she didn't like the path they were pointing down. The worst part of it all was that she had given herself the answer a while ago. 

_Like I didn't notice that all this stuff started about the time you and her met,_ she had told Logan one day.

Only, at the time, she had been referring to something completely different. This time…

Max had a strong penchant for trouble, she knew. But what she also knew was that the amount of trouble increased heavily around the time she met Logan. And maybe it wasn't Max who'd gotten caught in Logan's crossfire, but instead Logan who'd gotten caught in Max's.

Shortly after Logan had met her, he met Bruno Anselmo out on a street, and earned that fateful gunshot that took his ability to walk. Now Bruno was back from the dead.

And Original Cindy knew that meant Max was headed directly for trouble. It was only a matter of time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Ring._

8:30 am. Reach a message, leave a number.

_Ring._

8:45 am. Reach a message, leave a number.

_Ring._

9:00 am. Reach Kendra…

"Ulgmwbwaa?"

"Kendra? You got Original Cindy here."

The crackling rustle of sheets sounded through the phone as Kendra apparently shifted to look at the clock. "Jesus, it's only 9. Why the fuck are you calling at this hour?"

Original Cindy blinked at Kendra's language. She wasn't usually this…verbose. "You have a hot date or something?"

"Me and Mr. Multiples set a new record. You didn't answer my question," Kendra replied sleepily.

"I'm looking for Max."

Kendra sighed. "You woke me for that? Hit her pager."

Cindy ran one hand through her thick tangle of curls. "I've done that. For about a half hour now. She ain't hit me back yet. I was wonderin' if she was still hangin' with the snooze."

"You want me to get out of bed and check."

"Yes."

Another sigh. "I was hoping you'd say, 'Gee, Kendra, I know you must be incredibly tired after your long night of immense pleasure, you don't have to do that. Just roll your gorgeous self back over and—'"

"Kendra?"

"Yeah."

"Go check." Original Cindy really liked Kendra, but sometimes the blonde could be…well, a blonde.

Kendra groaned as she pulled herself out of bed. "Hold on." Only a few seconds passed before she picked the phone back up. "She's not here."

Original Cindy pulled the phone away from her head briefly to stare at it in exasperation. "Look, girl, I know your pad isn't large on size, but it should still take you longer than that to get from your bedroom to hers."

"Her bike's gone," Kendra informed her, the squeak of Kendra's bedsprings coming in loudly through the phone.

Cindy rubbed her forehead, not believing that she was getting a headache this early in the day. "You mean her work bike?" she hoped out loud.

"Mm mmm. That black beast she uses to take up space in the living room," Kendra mumbled.

"Her motorcycle? It's gone?" Cindy asked, with no response other than Kendra's soft snoring. She hung up the phone in frustration, and then picked it up again.

_Ring._

9:15. Reach a message, leave a number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's 10:45 am, and even you feckless bums have been working here for over an hour. Where is she?" Normal barked to Original Cindy and Sketchy, who were standing at the front desk.

Sketchy narrowed his eyes at Normal. "I resent being called feckless."

"Me too," Original Cindy agreed before asking, "What's it mean?"

"Where is Max?" Normal repeated slowly, enunciating each word.

_Think quickly._ "In the bathroom," she said.

Sketchy replied at the same time, "On a run."

Cindy didn't dare look at Sketchy for fear of smacking him. 

Normal glared at both of them. "If she is not present and accounted for in the next fifteen minutes, she will be without employment. You tell her that for me."

Sketchy tried to redeem himself. "Normal, I swear I just saw her a minute ago."

That was the last straw for Normal. "Get out of my sight. Get out of my sight," he said, waving his hands at them before walking away.  
  
"Do you have any idea where Max is?" Sketchy asked, almost as concerned as OC that their friend hadn't made an appearance yet that day and hadn't left word. 

"None," Cindy replied truthfully. "But we gonna fix that," she informed him, knowing the one person other than her who would be most likely to have Max's location. As Sketchy left on a run, she picked up the phone and began dialing a number that she had never dialed before. 

There were only two rings before there was an answer. "Hey," Logan greeted cheerfully.

"Hey," Cindy said.

There was a slight pause before Logan repeated with a surprised, "Hey."

That single word confirmed her suspicions. Even if he didn't know where Max was, at least he had been in contact with her. "You got Original Cindy here," she clarified.

"Oh. Hey."

She rolled her eyes at the other end of the line. _Spare me from brainless men today._ "We already did that," she said brusquely. "Do you know where Max is? I've been blowin' up her pager for two hours and she ain't hit me back, which is not her stilo."

"Max is okay," Logan responded.

OC blinked at the brush off. "That's not what I asked. Where is she?"

Logan didn't even hesitate before telling her, "She's doing something for me. She'll be back at work this afternoon."

Which still didn't answer her question at all. Original Cindy was quite surprised at the evasion. Sure, they had only talked a few times before, but he had always seemed quite straightforward. And Max, of course, had always spoken highly of him…when she wasn't bitching about him, that is. "If the man don't fire her ass first," she added, thinking about someone else's bitching from earlier.

Logan had a simple solution. "Well, tell him she had a medical emergency and she'll bring a note from her doctor."

That excuse was only about as original as Sketchy's run story. OC's curious streak went into action and she couldn't help but ask, "What you got her doin'?"

"It's a favor," was the short answer. 

"A favor," she repeated. She was beginning to get a little pissed at all the games and evasions going on around her. "Look. You wanna be International Man of Mystery, that's your dealio. But you get my homegirl jammed up, I'm gonna beat on your ass, chair or no chair." 

Logan's smile was audible as he tried to reassure her, "Trust me. Max is okay."

Original Cindy couldn't be reassured. By now, she was a master at worrying about Max, needlessly or not. "She better be. Later," she threatened, reaching to hang up the phone. 

Normal did it for her. He stared at her intently as he said, "Hi. I couldn't help overhearing you use the M word. Did you inquire as to her whereabouts?" 

_How's this for an Original answer, you feckless bum._ "She's at the doctor's. The good news is, they caught it before it turned into chronic multiple progressive brain dysfunction syndrome. She'll be in as soon as they're done testing her." She turned and walked away.

She chuckled as she heard Normal behind her saying, "Oh, for the love of Mike."

It was amazing that as much as she hated her job at Jam Pony, it was wonderfully distracting when she wanted it to be. Finish one run, return and get another one. Repeat if desired. She kept that up throughout the day into the afternoon until about an hour before the end of shift. Then, she returned to Jam Pony and waited…

…and waited.

She waited past shift, after everyone else had already left, just sitting on the benches between the lockers, staring at the door. She wasn't sure if she was a fool for believing Logan, or stupid for being obsessed with Max. Finally, Normal walked over to her and asked, "Are you alright?"

Cindy looked up at him, mildly surprised at the concern in his eyes. "Yeah, why?"

He sighed heavily in mock exasperation, and raised his arm in a deliberate motion to look at his watch. "Unless my time is seriously off, you're late."

"And that's strange how?" Cindy asked emotionlessly.

"You're on the wrong side of late, for a change." Normal hesitated before saying, "Look, you'd better get going. She's not going to show up."

Original Cindy narrowed her eyes at him, then relaxed as she saw he was doing nothing but stating what she was already thinking. "I guess you're right," she admitted, both to him and herself. She picked up her backpack and gave Normal one last look. "Thanks, Normal."

Normal pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. "Don't thank me, I'm just trying to get you out of here so I can turn off the lights, save electricity." He turned on one heel and walked away.

"Uh huh, right, Normal. I think it's the same reason you haven't fired Max, for all that she's been late. Somewhere, deep down, you like us," she murmured when he'd departed. She stood, and just as she was out the door, the lights went off behind her.

Original Cindy headed from Jam Pony straight to Crash, like most nights, intending to drink her troubles away. She vowed that, for one night, she wasn't going to be worried about Max. Who cared where she was? "Not Original Cindy, that's straight," she told herself as she reached the door to the dilapidated hangout. Then she laughed at herself. "Okay, so that's a bad choice of words." 

As she stepped inside the doorway, she experienced a sense of déjà vu. Sketchy and Herbal Thought were both sitting in the same place at the bar, as they had been the night before. They were staring at a television, tuned to the same channel, watching the same news reporter, who was covering the same hearing. The news itself, however, was slightly different.

"Mayor Leopold Steckler is expected to be indicted on one hundred and forty-nine counts of murder," he began.

A loud cheer rose from the bar, with Sketchy and Herbal giving each other high fives in all sorts of convoluted ways.

"Shhh! He's not finished!" Original Cindy said, waiving at them.

"…was from Bruno Anselmo, who was felled by gunmen outside the municipal building only moments after his testimony," the reporter finished up.

"Remind me to buy that man a beer in the afterlife, right, Cindy?" Sketchy asked. Hearing no response, he turned. "Hey, where'd she go?" he asked Herbal Thought, who only shrugged.

Original Cindy hadn't heard him, since she was already halfway out the main door of Crash to find a pay phone that would be more private than the one inside. Privacy was very important right now; she didn't know what she was going to hear, and, most importantly, she didn't know what she was going to say.

"Max, what are you doing to me?" she asked herself. "Disappearing, reappearing, doing God only knows what…" She reached the payphone, and began digging around in her purse for coins. Finding just enough for one call, she quickly dumped them in the slot, and dialed Max's pager.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

"I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up, check your number, and try again," a tinny voice said.

Déjà vu.

Original Cindy slammed the phone back on the hook. "Sure took you long enough this time, boo. Last time, you had it off in seconds. You musta been mighty busy." She jammed one finger in the coin return, chipping a nail in the process but not noticing. She retrieved her coins that the phone had thankfully spit back out. A blessed rarity, since it seemed that even the phones were out to rob people these days. She dropped the coins back in, and dialed a second number.

"Hello?" Logan answered after a couple of rings.

Cindy took one deep breath before stiffly saying, "She didn't come back today."

There was a long pause on the other end, before he said, "Cindy."

No Original. It didn't go unnoticed. "She didn't come back today," she repeated, enunciating each word to a sharp clip.

Another long pause. "I know."

OC waited, but when further clarification was not forthcoming, she began to get pissed. "I _know_? That's all you're going to say?"

"Cindy, I—" Logan cut himself off, and she could hear him cover the phone. She could make out a slight murmur before he got back on and quietly said, "She's here."

Original Cindy blinked. And blinked again. "And when were you going to let me in on this clue?" she asked softly. Dangerously.

A pause. "She wants to talk to you." He didn't give her any chance to respond before he passed off the phone.

"Hey," came Max's tired voice.

OC closed her eyes in relief. Then she snapped them open, heading back towards pissed. "Where the _hell_ have you been? I've been blowing up your pager all day."

"I—"

"And, in case you didn't know, your number's shut off. Again."

"I know."

Cindy mulled that response over in her head before continuing. "So…you okay?"

A pause. "Yeah."

"Okay, I love you, boo, but I'm getting a little sick of this pause/talk game you and your boy seem to be wantin' to play tonight. I'm not asking you – either of you – any heavy questions, so I'm not in need of no heavy answers. Just talk, k?" Original Cindy pleaded.

Max sighed, an almost desolate sound. "I'm sorry, I'm just…tired, is all. Look, I'm gonna crash here tonight. See ya tomorrow at work?"

Original Cindy blew out a frustrated sound, but finally conceded the conversation. "Yeah, see ya tomorrow, boo. Put your boy on for me after you go."

"Okay," Max said, a small clink coming through the line as she set the phone down. 

OC's brows almost hit her hairline. _Didn't argue the "your boy" label. Either time. And whose vote is on "all is well in Max's world"?_ As soon as she heard the phone being picked up, she began talking, desperate to rid her mind of the one thought that had been doggin' her since the newscast. "Logan, I need you to be real with me, please. Did your little 'errand' have anything to do with Bruno Anselmo?" Upon hearing his sharp intake of breath, she rushed, "Did…did she kill him?"

Logan let out the breath he had obviously held. "No," he said definitively. "She didn't."

Original Cindy's eyes drifted close in relief. "Okay. I…okay. We'll leave the rest for another day. You watch over my girl, hear?"

Logan chuckled softly. "Yeah, I hear. I'd better get going."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed. "I'm in an alley outside of Crash, and although it's pretty upscale as alleys go, it ain't no five star resort, if you catch my meaning."

"I got it. Take care of yourself, Cindy."

"You too, Logan. Late." She hung up the phone, and set off towards home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy wandered into Jam Pony early the next morning. Not so early that she'd be on time, of course, but earlier than her usual appearances. Her goal for the day was to not strangle Max. Although, as she walked by Normal who was shaking his head and "bipping" loudly, she decided that the goal could be amended for other people as well.

She made her way through the throng of bike messengers rushing around and moved back towards the lockers. She was somewhat startled to see Max there, although she must not have been there long. She was sitting with her back towards the entryway, slowly packing her backpack with the morning runs. 

Rather than waiting for Max to notice her, OC decided to just make her presence known the same way she usually did. She walked up behind her and said cheerfully, "Mornin', boo!" clapping one hand on Max's shoulder.

"Ahhhh!" Max cried out in pain, hissing as Original Cindy quickly jerked her hand back. Max turned and looked up.

"Jesus Christ," Cindy breathed as she took in Max's appearance. The young woman's perfect skin was marred by bruises across a pale cheekbone, and her split bottom lip was bleeding slightly, probably broken open by Max's cry. Original Cindy didn't say another word, just grabbed Max gently by the elbow and motioned her to stand.

Max shook her head. "OC…"

"Don't OC me. I'll pick you up if I have to," Original Cindy snapped.

Max blinked, taken aback. She nodded and stood.

Original Cindy picked up Max's backpack, and began leading her towards the front doorway. "Did you ride your bicycle?"

"Well, actually—"

"You'll just have to leave it here. It'll be easier to keep an eye on you if I can keep hold of you." She looked at Normal as they passed by the front desk. "Personal day," she informed him, throwing the backpack on the counter. "Give that to Sketchy and give him the 411."

"On what?" Normal asked loudly. "She can walk in here, she can work. Hey. Hey!!" he called after them in vain. 

"Where are we going?" Max asked, as Original Cindy whisked her out the door, never letting go of her arm.

"My place," she replied. "Can you walk that far?"

"Of course I can," Max scoffed. "It's not that far away. Original…"

"We'll chat when we get there. Just keep walking," Original Cindy commanded, relieved to see Max roll her eyes and keep her eyes on the road ahead.

The walk was blessedly short, in Original Cindy's opinion, at least. It was all she could do to keep herself quiet until they got there. She unlocked her front door and steered Max inside and towards the couch. "You sit there while I get you a glass of milk. You lookin' a little shaky."

"I'm not—" Max protested weakly.

"Look at your hands, Max," Original Cindy directed softly before turning to go in the kitchen.

Max looked down at her hands. They were trembling. She gingerly sat down on the couch, as though her knees were seconds from buckling.

Cindy held onto the refrigerator door for a few long seconds before opening it, briefly glancing at the picture of her and Max before ignoring it in favor of the milk. _How could we ever have been happy like that?_ she asked herself as she looked for a glass. She quickly found one that was clean, and filled it. She walked back out into the living room, and handed the glass to Max. "Drink." 

Original Cindy continued her path, heading into the bathroom and retrieving a first aid kit. She came back to see that Max had already drank nearly the whole glass, and now seemed more composed. Cindy took a seat behind Max, and indicated that Max should turn away from her.

Max sat the glass down with a thump. "Look, it's nice of you to get me the day off and everything, but—"

"Did you hear me say you could talk yet? If so, you hearin' things, 'cuz I didn't drop you no line of the sort." Original Cindy raised one slim eyebrow as Max narrowed her eyes, but obeyed and turned around. "Take off your jacket, please," she said.

Max complied, revealing a long sleeve shirt underneath.

Original Cindy braced herself, and then told her, "Lift your arms." 

Max turned her head towards her shoulder, a puzzled look in her eyes.

"Up over your head, sugah. That's a good girl," she praised after Max followed her directions. _Just like Mama used to tell Original Cindy, back when she was plain ol' little Cynthia,_ Original Cindy thought. And just like her mother had done when she was younger, she gently grasped the edge of Max's shirt, and slowly pulled it up and over Max's head, leaving it in Max's hands, and then glancing down to see what was there.

Max's thin back was spotted with angry purple bruises, small cuts, and what even looked like burn marks. Her entire right shoulder blade was covered with a large sterile bandage that was most likely once a crisp white color. Now it had places the color of rust, with bright scarlet spots the color of fresh blood coming through.

As Max felt Original Cindy's fingers at the corner of the bandage, she softly blurted out, "It's the worst. The others aren't bad, the bruises really started coming out this morning and…" Max dropped her chin to her chest and was quiet once more.

Original Cindy gently pulled at the tape, being as careful as possible not to pull at Max's skin. Underneath, she revealed a giant…she wasn't quite sure what it was. Part burn, part scrape, mostly scabby mess. She could see where one part of the scabbed area had cracked and lifted and was slowly oozing blood. It looked extremely painful, but Max had obviously been tolerating it. At least until Original Cindy had come along and squeezed it.

She closed her eyes, hating to think that she had caused her best friend any more pain than she already had. She got a bottle of peroxide out of the first aid kit and dabbed some cotton balls with it. "This is probably gonna sting a bit," she warned Max.

Max laughed. "Thanks for the warning," she replied dryly. "More than I got last night when—" She stopped.

Original Cindy paused right as she was about to swab the wound. _When Logan patched me up,_ she finished. _That son of a bitch. He knew._ OC gave no indication of hearing the pause and began to disinfect the area. Max made no sound, no indications of pain or discomfort other than occasionally pulling away from Cindy's gentle ministrations. When she was finished, she gently taped the area with a fresh bandage and stood, going to throw the old bandage away. She returned, walking around the front of the couch just as Max was putting the shirt back on, quickly covering another series of bruises across her ribcage. 

Max looked up at Original Cindy, her dark eyes swirling with emotion, but quickly going blank. Hidden. "Are you going to say something?"

Original Cindy shrugged her shoulders, doing a damn good job of hiding her own emotions. "Not sure what to say, boo, other than you look like you hit yourself with a truck. Not the best look for you."

Max tried a tentative smile, but it quickly fell away as the split in her lip pulled a bit. "I heard it was all the rage this season. Thought I'd try it."

Original Cindy sat in front of her, and looked deep into her eyes, reaching one hand up to gently caress the unbruised side of her face. "What I think is…" she hesitated. She wanted to spill her guts, reveal every thought, but some part of her mind held her back. Somehow, this didn't feel right, not now, at least. "I think you need to get some rest," she finished. _Why do I keep holding back?_

Max blinked, apparently wondering the same thing. She turned and looked at the sunlight streaming through a window. "It's still daylight. Very daylight, as a matter of fact."

Original Cindy smiled, but the smile didn't quite meet her eyes. "I know. But you look beat, boo. Figuratively, I mean, not just literally. Just lie down for a while."

Max looked longingly at the couch, her aching body begging for release. "Yeah," she agreed tiredly. "Maybe just for a little while."

Cindy grabbed a blanket off a nearby chair and draped it over Max after she had stretched out. "No disappearing, either, k? We got some talking to do."

Max nodded slowly, closed her eyes, and within a few seconds, was fast asleep.

Original Cindy only watched her for a couple of minutes, before moving away from Max's side to grab a jacket, and tiptoe out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy stood on the sidewalk outside of Logan's apartment building looking up. She had known that Logan was rich, but…Jesus. This was like preparing to go make an appearance for royalty or something, except that she wouldn't be able to do what she was going to do, to royalty. She took a deep breath and entered the front hallway of the building.

_Did I just go through a time warp or something?_ Original Cindy couldn't help but thinking as she gazed around the lobby. It seemed untouched by time, with all the bright woods and soft music playing. Fresh flowers were set in large vases on either end of the main desk, which was staffed by a young, smiling woman in a crisp suit. The woman's smile became even broader as Original Cindy approached the desk.

"Hello!" the woman greeted cheerfully. "How can I help you today?"

"Uh… I'm here to see Logan Cale. Can you tell me which pad is his?" Original Cindy asked tentatively.

"What's your name, please?"

"Name?" OC repeated.

"I need to see if you're on his guest list," the woman responded.

"Oh." _Shit,_ Original Cindy thought. _Here to beat the man's ass, and stopped by a clerk. There ain't no way my name's on that list. I've only met the man twice._ "Original Cindy." She rolled her eyes as the clerk actually scanned the list for that name.

"I'm sorry, I don't see that here. Is that your full name?" the clerk questioned.

Original Cindy sighed. "That ain't gonna be on there either, but you can sure use your pretty eyes to look for it. Cynthia McEachin."

"Ah. Right here," the woman said after only a few seconds. She looked up at Cindy and grinned, batting her eyelashes slightly before she handed her a pass card. "Do you know where to go?"

Original Cindy shook her head, a little stunned.

"I'll show her where, dear," a voice from behind said.

Original Cindy turned and saw an older, grey haired woman gripping a cane in one hand and waving at her with the other. OC smiled at the desk clerk, and turned to the other woman. "Thank you…"

"Mrs. Moreno. And it's no trouble. I'm headed that way myself." Mrs. Moreno gently took Original Cindy's arm, leaning some of her weight on it, and began shuffling the two of them down a corridor. "Are you a friend of Logan's, Cynthia?"

"No, ma'am. I'm a friend of a friend of his. And you can call me Original Cindy," Original Cindy replied, immediately liking this woman.

"Okay, you must be a friend of Max's then, Ms. Original," Mrs. Moreno declared.

Original Cindy blinked owlishly, both at the woman's assumption and her new name. "Yes, I am. You know Max?"

Mrs. Moreno laughed. "Of course, dear. Max brings me groceries sometimes. She can't shop worth a damn, but it's always so sweet of her. She's got the loveliest smile."

"She does," OC agreed. She couldn't believe that Max was spontaneously shopping for groceries for a senior citizen. Punk-ass Max. She could see they were approaching the bank of elevators, but asked anyway, "I guess you know Logan, too?"

"Yes, I do, dearie. Such a…lonely young man…especially since his unfortunate accident. But it's so nice that he's got a friend like Max to watch out for him. And now you, too. Oh, here we are! I don't know why the designers put the elevators all the way in back like this, but they did." Mrs. Moreno stopped in front of the three elevators before them, and pointed to the one on the left. "You take that one up to the penthouse, Ms. Original, and give his door a good knock. Tell him I said hello. And you stop back and visit me sometime."

"Yes, ma'am. I definitely will," she replied, meaning it. "Where do you live?"

"The penthouse." She laughed at Original Cindy's confused look, and pressed the button for the one in the center. "Take a good look at the building when you leave. You'll see that the designers decided to stack another apartment at the very top. That one's mine – center. Logan has left wing," Mrs. Moreno explained. "Although, I end up at his some days when my mind wanders and I take the wrong elevator. Have a nice day!" she said as the elevator door opened, and she left.

Original Cindy shook her head slightly, hitting the proper button. Inside, she swiped the card for the security release and poked the button labeled "PH". "Looks like Original Cindy's gettin' high today," she laughingly said to the empty elevator. "Herbal Thought would be proud."

The elevator swiftly and smoothly ascended to the top floor, and lightly dinged upon arrival. Original Cindy stepped out and was faced with a solid wood door. Part of her wanted to turn and leave. Another part of her still wanted to kick Logan's ass. Max's injuries flashed through her mind, and she decided to go with kicking Logan's ass. She knocked loudly, and waited. She was ready to knock again when the door suddenly opened in front of her.

"You're earlier than I thought you'd be," Logan said, looking up at her. "Come on in." He turned and moved back into the apartment. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Uh…yeah," she replied. "Thanks." This was going strangely already. "Whatever ya got."

"Go ahead and take a seat in the living room while I get it." He disappeared into the kitchen.

Uncomfortably, Original Cindy slowly walked through the apartment towards the living room, trying not to gape as she walked by all the expensive artwork on the walls. She reached the living room, and took a seat on a couch that probably on its own cost more than she made in a year at Jam Pony.

Logan soon came wheeling in with two glasses. He set those on the glass coffee table, left the room, and came back with a small bottle. He poured her about two fingers of the amber liquid, and filled the second glass for himself. As he set the bottle down, he asked, "If you're going to beat me up, would you mind not getting any blood on the floor? It's hell to get out of wood."

Original Cindy snorted. "Sugah, I should be smearing your ass around this villa on the clouds of yours, but I think I'm gonna stop to down this nectar you so graciously poured." She glared at Logan over the rim of her glass when he chuckled. "What did you mean when you said I was early?"

Logan sighed and took a sip from his own glass, enjoying the burn the scotch gave. "I'd honestly thought Max'd avoid you a little while, at least until she healed some."

"She showed at JP today, thinkin' she would deliver a few packages. Soon as I saw her face, I dragged her down to my digs, dumped her ass there for a nap," Original Cindy informed him, setting her glass down and leaning back on the couch, intending to be as comfortable as she could be. "Personally, I'm wondering why she didn't just hang her hat in the lap of luxury for a while."

"How's she doing?" Logan asked, ignoring Cindy's last statement.

"Fine, I guess. 'Cept I tore open her shoulder again. Homegirl hides a bit too much sometimes, if you catch my drift."

Logan didn't say anything, just took another sip of his scotch, his gaze not on Original Cindy, but somewhere far from the room.

Original Cindy leaned forward, placed her elbows on her knees, and gave him a level stare. "I should whoop you one for all she got yesterday."

"Did she tell you what happened?" Logan asked, still not quite meeting Original Cindy's eyes.

"Of course not. That's not the game Max plays. And I bet you're not gonna fill me in, either," she guessed.

"No."

"S'what I thought. So I think we're a little stuck here."

"Stuck? What happened to beating on my ass?" Logan inquired, honestly curious.

"If I thought for one second it would take away any of that pain she holds in, you'd already be a ridin' black and blue mark." Original Cindy sighed and closed her eyes for a few seconds, massaging her temples with her manicured fingers.

"So…if I don't sound rude asking…why'd you come here then?"

Original Cindy opened her eyes. "What is this, Twenty Questions?" She stood, and walked over to the windows, looking out at the clouds that were rolling in. A lonely view for a lonely man. "It's gonna rain soon, and not just today," she murmured. 

Still facing the window, she finally let everything out. "I don't really know why I came here. Lookin' for an answer that I knew I wasn't gonna find. 'Cuz I don't think you got it either. Max is a living flame and we're just moths in her world. We're drawn to her beauty, and power, and energy, but we forget that she's dangerous." She glanced over her shoulder. "And some of us get burned."

Logan gave his wheels several slow pushes until he was right next to her. "I didn't 'get burned' because of her."

Original Cindy turned around and leaned against the window, looking at him. "I know you didn't. It wasn't her face I saw with yours on a TV last night. The funny thing is, I don't think she's dangerous to anybody but her own damn self. She tries to fight the fire with the fire, and only ends up makin' it all worse."

"I know," Logan agreed. "She worries me sometimes. Like yesterday. What happened…" He hesitated, then continued. "She's headed straight towards the inferno, Cindy."

"I know. I think she knows, too. She's felt it for a while I think. One of these days it's gonna blow up in her face, and I'm worried that all I'll have left is a picture on my fridge."

"Picture?"

"Only one I got. One rare moment when the world left her alone and Max decided to be Max. Only one I'm gonna get, too," she said softly.

Logan glanced at her curiously. "Why do you say that?"

Original Cindy sighed and walked away from the window. "Because the next time will be when Max tells me the truth behind the mystery. And that one ain't gonna be no easy journey. You just keep your pretty green eyes on her for me, hear? Don't always send her on these 'man of mystery' adventure missions. Take her somewhere nice for a change." She walked over to the coffee table and quickly tossed back the remaining contents of her glass. "I gotta bounce. Thanks for bein' an ear. Or two."

Logan smiled and guided her to the door. "You're welcome here anytime, Cindy, even when you don't want to kick my ass."

"I figured that, boo, otherwise my name – which is 'Original Cindy', by the way – wouldn't be on that hallowed decree of yours downstairs. Speaking of which, how did you know my name?" she asked, remembering the clerk's words.

Logan shrugged. "Max talks about you a lot. You're a good friend to her."

She smiled. "So are you. She's lucky to have friends like us – and Mrs. Moreno."

"Mrs. Moreno?"

"Your neighbor of sorts, I take it. She said to tell you hey."

Logan grinned, obviously imagining what sort of conversation could possibly have taken place between the two women. "Take care, Original Cindy."

"You, too, Logan," she replied, and closed the door behind her.

It took her a while to get back to her apartment, and by that time the rain had begun. She walked in the door, half chilled and soaked straight through to the skin. 

Max stood when she walked in the door. "Where the hell have you been? And look at you. You're all wet!"

Original Cindy smiled. "I been at your boy's castle. And 'course I'm wet. Happens in the rain. Have a good nap?"

Max glared at her. "I woke up a half hour ago and you were gone. And he's not my boy."

_She's back,_ Original Cindy thought, suppressing a grin. "'Course he ain't. That's why he was swoonin' over you the whole time I was there?"

"OC!" Max hissed, a scarlet flush racing up her cheeks.

Original Cindy laughed. "That got some color back in your skin, boo. And careful what you say. That lip of yours might split open again."

Max shot daggers at OC with her eyes and plunked back down on the couch. "So I guess the two of you talked. What'd he say?"

Original Cindy took a seat next to Max. "That's between him and me."

"Our turn now, then?" Max asked warily.

"Nope," Original Cindy answered, shaking her head.

"Nope? That's it? Why not?"

Original Cindy carefully wrapped one arm around Max's shoulder and leaned the two of them back. "Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday? Whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help Jah?"

Max hesitated. "No," she answered honestly. "I can't. I—"

"I don't want no excuse. That's okay. There'll come a day when you and me will be sittin' somewhere and the fog will lift. And you know what'll be left?"

"What?"

Original Cindy smiled. "You and me. And that's enough."

Max looked at her, eyes moist, but bright. "Someday," she echoed. 

"Just tell me one thing, Max," Original Cindy said. "Whatever happened…was it worth it?"

Max nodded. "Yes. It was."

"Okay then. That's all I needed to know." Original Cindy moved her arm out from behind Max and reached for the remote control on her coffee table. "For now, I'll just find us a romance flick and give you some pointers for you and Logan's love life."

"OC!" Max hissed again.

"I told you, watch that lip." Cindy turned to give Max the most innocent look she could manage while trying not to laugh. "Anyway, there ain't nothing different between a guy and a girl as there is between two girls." She let the laugh out as Max groaned and closed her eyes. "No important difference, at least."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5 - Still Life

_Coming August 30_


	6. Chapter 5 Still Life

_A/N: I feel like I must warn y'all that there is some OC/Daphne in this chapter. But believe me when I say you'll probably get more action from a Disney movie._

_Chapter 5 - Still Life_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy slowly strolled into Jam Pony after a typical run, ready for another one, but in no way intending to let Normal know that. As she walked down the ramp, she frowned, recognizing a familiar blonde sitting on one of the couches in the break area. "Kendra? Don't you got anything better to do than slum around this pit?"

Kendra turned away from the television she was watching and smiled. "Original Cindy. Good to see you, too."

"You didn't answer my question."

Kendra laughed, the gravelly sound of a lifelong chain smoker, or someone who liked to swallow glass. "Max called me, told me to haul ass over here."

OC blinked, surprised. "She did? Why?"

"Because I need your help," Max said from behind them.

Original Cindy turned and smiled at Max, whose fingers were tapping impatiently on her crossed arms. "You got a bee in your shorts, boo? 'Cuz you're looking a little itchy." At Max's eye roll, she asked, "What do you need help with?"

Max grit her teeth. "Shopping."

Original Cindy and Kendra looked first at each other, and then back to Max. Kendra hesitantly spoke, "You do have a good sense of style, Max, no offense, but…"

"Hard core shopping ain't the usual way you go about it," Original Cindy finished up for her. "What's the dealio here?"

Max mumbled something mostly unintelligible.

Kendra narrowed her eyes. "Did I just hear 'date' come from your mouth in that garbled mess?"

Original Cindy laughed gleefully as a scarlet flush rapidly spread up Max's neck and over her cheeks. "So Logan finally came down to earth and stepped to the real? Screw shopping; I'm gonna go buy me a lottery ticket."

"Would you mind saying it a little louder, please?" Max hissed. "And it's not a date, exactly. It's more of an…escort job." She groaned as Kendra and Original Cindy hooted with laughter at their thoughts of 'escort job.' "A wedding!!! He invited me to his cousin's wedding! God, would the two of you grow up?"

Kendra wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry, but I just imagined…" She saw Max's pointed glare, and decided not to go any further. "Never mind."

"I'd love to help, boo, but how the hell are we going to get out from under the head asshole's radar?" Original Cindy asked, pointing out Normal at the main desk.

Max smiled. "I got it covered." She turned, and looked over by the lockers, where Sketchy was leaning, watching the three women. She gave him a nod and a small wave, and he nodded back.

Sketchy strode across the main part of Jam Pony, aimed directly at Sky, who was turning away from the main desk with several packages. A few steps were all it took for Sketchy to collide with the young man. Both fell, and Sketchy clutched at his face. "Ahhh!" He cried. "My eye! A package hit my eye! Sue! I'm gonna sue this place!"

Normal dashed out from behind the desk, diving on his knees by Sketchy, trying to pull Sketchy's hands away so he could get a good look at the damage.

Max turned back to Original Cindy and Kendra and raised a slim eyebrow. "Come on. Let's bounce." The three quickly hurried out the doors before Normal could notice them gone.

They laughed and talked about the incident all the way down to the upscale fashion district. Their laughter slowly faded away at the site of perfectly coiffed women meandering the streets with large shopping bags from expensive stores and walking their small fuzzy dogs. The three entered a store Max had picked at random, and couldn't help but gape at the tall columns and shining cases. 

"You hear stories about places like this, but damn," Original Cindy muttered over the music that was softly piped in through the room.

"It's like the pulse never happened," Kendra agreed.

Max walked over to a dress that was entirely too sparkly for the occasion at hand. "What do you think?"

Kendra and Original Cindy just shook their heads and continued the lap of the store. Kendra couldn't help but sigh as she looked at all the dresses. "I love weddings."

"Never been to one," Max admitted.

"Seriously?" Kendra blinked in amazement as she saw Max was entirely serious. "There is nothing more romantic than two people pledging their hearts to each other 'til the day they die. Makes me incredibly horny."

Original Cindy rolled her eyes at the blonde. Some days, it seemed like only one thing was on her mind. "No, thank you. Knockin' the boot with the same person, day in, day out, for the rest of your life? I'm not even trying to hear that." It also made it a lot easier to explain away the revolving door of women that passed through her life.

Kendra gave OC a mild glare before looking at Max. "Don't listen to her. You are _so_ gonna have a good time." The three came to stop in front of another dress. "Perfect."

Original Cindy agreed with Kendra. There were no frills to be found. No sparkles, no yards of girly lace. The bodice was made of small, netted flowers, and the skirt fell softly to the ground. The deep red looked as if it were made for Max's complexion, and the strapless nature wouldn't do anything but accentuate her friend's obscenely perfect figure. Original Cindy glanced at her friend, and could see the yearning in the young woman's eyes. She almost hated to dash her dreams with an unfortunate question. "Wonder how much cheddar they want for this bitch?"

"Logan's paying for this, right?" Kendra asked.

"It's not like he's my sugar daddy," Max replied, a little distracted as she continued to look at the dress.

Kendra glanced at Original Cindy. "Why not?"

Original Cindy had to work hard not to first agree with Kendra, and second defend Max and Logan. She'd been embroiled enough in their goings on lately to not want to start anything. Luckily, a saleswoman came over and provided a convenient interruption. 

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"We're just browsing," Kendra replied in an attempt to be snooty.

Max gestured toward the dress. "How much is this?"

The saleswoman arched a slim eyebrow and eyed the three girls as though she were regarding an inferior specimen. "Six."

"Hundred?" Max asked, the hope not quite hidden in her voice.

"Thousand," was the reply, "It's an imported Raphael Banks original." There was an almost wicked glee in the explanation to the three street rats.

Original Cindy snorted, unable to believe the gall of some people. "Now that's just stupid." The sharp pain of Max's elbow in her side silenced any further remarks she wanted to make.

Max managed to look down her nose at the saleswoman, proving she could be just as highbrow as the best of them. "Could you put this on hold? I'm gonna come back for it later."

Surprise flashed through the woman's eyes. "Of course."

"Thank you," Max said primly. The three girls turned and walked – or skipped, in Kendra's case – out the door.

"Ow!" OC snapped, glaring at Max as soon as they got out of the shop. She pulled up her shirt to look for bruises. "Your bony elbow could take out a few internal organs, girl. You need to learn to pull your punches."

"That _was_ pulled," Max muttered. "Look, I'm sorry. But I just didn't want your mouth to lose me that dress."

Kendra and Original Cindy looked at each other and grinned. "It got ya, didn't it?" Kendra observed.

Max shot her a questioning look. "Huh?"

"The dress, boo," Original Cindy explained. "_The_ Dress. In every woman's life, there is a dress that she comes across that just gets inside her. I think this one smacked you right between your pretty eyes."

Max sighed. "Yeah, I guess it did. Is that a bad thing?"

Kendra giggled. "Nah. Just shows that you do have two functioning X chromosomes in there after all. But, and I hate to be the one to point this out, how are you going to pay for this if Logan isn't? Six large is a little more difficult to find than our 'rent' was."

Max shrugged, not looking at either of her friends. "I'll manage," she replied vaguely.

Original Cindy eyed Max, not sure she wanted to know what that brilliant mind was cooking up. "We both on for Saturday runs. You need help getting all fancied up?" she offered.

Max flashed her a quick, bright grin. "That'd be wonderful, thanks."

Original Cindy smiled back. "Not a problem, boo. You get the dress, I get the rest."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where does that idiot get off calling us idiots," Original Cindy grumbled as she pawed through all the makeup she had scattered in the bathroom of Jam Pony. It was pretty obvious that no one had cleaned the room in ages, judging from the slime on the mirror and the faint odor in the air. But Max had insisted on getting dressed in there, not wanting to risk the usual dressing area. Original Cindy personally felt that it was a better risk than the pathogens they could pick up from the restroom, but didn't want to be a complainer for Max's special occasion.

"I believe he decided we're morons," Max's voice piped up from one of the stalls. The rustling of skirts punctuated her words.

Original Cindy scowled at her reflection in the one clean area she had scraped in the mirror. "Either way, the man has got a death wish. I swear—"

"Cindy?" Max interrupted.

Original Cindy turned to look at the door. "Yeah?"

The door opened, and Max came out, clutching one arm to her chest to hold the bodice up. She turned away from her friend. "Zip me, please."

Original Cindy smiled and slid the zipper up. Max turned back around, and OC whistled low under her breath. "Dayum girl. Logan is gonna swallow his tongue when he sees you in that. Isn't there some rule about not upstaging the bride?"

Max snorted. "Like I'd know."

OC couldn't help but running her eyes over Max's frame one more time. Friends or not, Original Cindy had functional eyes and the young woman was _fine_. "Any less chest and you'd have to find another way to hold that thing up. God sure blessed you good."

"It wasn't God," Max muttered.

Original Cindy raised a slim eyebrow. "Honey, don't even try tellin' me you purchased that rack. You can't find nothin' look that good on a shelf."

Max groaned. "Not quite what I meant. Can we please get off my boobs and on to something a little more productive? Hair, maybe?"

"Aiight. I guess we are cuttin' it a little on time." Original Cindy picked up a hairbrush and began brushing through Max's hair as she began to fumble with makeup, squeezing some concealer out of a tube onto her fingers. "You got any ideas what you want with this mane of yours?"

Max sighed and turned to look at Original Cindy again. She shrugged and absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm thinking part up, part down."

Original Cindy grabbed Max's hand and pulled it away from her neck. With the other hand, she grabbed the concealer tube. "Don't use that stuff. That's too thick for you. Might as well put on grease paint. Thank God you only got it on your neck instead of your face. Try this." Original Cindy passed over a different tube. "This is lighter. Get movin'. We'll wash that crap off your neck later."

Max was unusually silent as she began to put on makeup and Original Cindy played with her hair, trying to manipulate the thick strands into some sense of order. OC was beginning to wonder if she'd said something wrong, when she noticed one of Max's feet tapping frantically. _Sistah girl's got some nerves in her after all. Who'd a thunk?_ she thought, smiling. 

Max was just finishing up her lipstick when she suddenly straightened. She dropped the lipstick and turned toward the doorway. One strand of hair Original Cindy had been trying to tuck in pulled as Max jerked away. Original Cindy hissed, "Hold still! I'm almost done!"

Max turned back, eyes wide with nerves. "I gotta go. He's here!"

Original Cindy furrowed her brow. "How the hell do you know that?"

"I can hear him talking. I gotta go," she said again.

"Okay, we won't worry about your neck then. You can't see the makeup you smeared on it, anyway." Original Cindy picked up the little purse that went with the dress and shoved it at Max. "Take a few deep breaths, Max. Don't want to show them nerves when you go out there."

"I'm not nervous," Max replied, her voice rising in a slight squeak. But she began to breathe deeply in spite of her claim.

"Of course you ain't," Original Cindy said, a laugh in her own voice. She began retucking the strand of hair in as Max walked out. "Have the best night, boo."

As they moved out from the bathroom, Max's steps suddenly took on a confident beat and her movements became somewhat sultry. Original Cindy watched as Logan, finely dressed in a black tuxedo, did a double take as Max approached him. "You clean up nice," Max greeted.

"So do you," Logan replied.

"Shall we?"

"Sure."

Original Cindy rolled her eyes at the exchange. She was hoping for something a little more, but should have known that she wouldn't get it with those two. She watched their backs as they walked – or rolled – out the door together.

Backs.

Original Cindy blinked as she thought back to zipping up Max's dress. A few days before, Cindy had patched up Max's shoulder, which had looked like someone tried to peel the skin off. The whole area had been scabby and bruised. Now it was smooth, showing nothing other than Max's normal complexion. Something was beginning to tickle at the back of her brain, some suggestive whisper that was still too muffled to hear clearly. She shook her head, trying to ignore it, and walked over to Sketchy. "Any plans tonight?"

Sketchy shrugged. "Usual. Hit Crash, try to drown my miseries and pick up chicks. Wanna kick it?"

Original Cindy nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like a plan to me, Sketch."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_One pitcher, two pitcher, three pitcher, floor._ Although it seemed like the whole Jam Pony crew had high alcohol tolerances, Sketchy was not looking so hot after only a few pitchers. Original Cindy had been giving him some assistance with them, too. She just figured that he'd been dirt broke for a while and hadn't been able to go out drinking, so his liver was used to living the sober life. The really funny thing about Sketchy getting loaded was that he began getting all philosphlo…phlosophil…he started thinking too much.

"One thing you can say about Normal is at least he knows who he is." Sketchy said with a slight slur in his voice.

OC didn't need to shake off the comfortable brew fog she was sitting in to answer that one. "A constipated, crusty, angry, rhythm-free, Republican white man?"

"I myself struggle with self-identity." Sketchy's glazed eyes looked at Original Cindy earnestly.

She rolled her own eyes at him. "Wiggy, you trippin'."

"No, I'm serious."

Original Cindy was about to tell Sketchy what she thought of his seriousness when Herbal Thought leaned across the railing and held out a cell phone. "It's Normal."

Original Cindy felt some of her happy bubble deflate. "Speak of the devil."

Herbal gave OC a steady look. "He's asking for you. He sounds upset. Talk."

As low as Normal was on her favorite person list that week, some small part of her couldn't help but worry at the thought of Normal sounding upset. He never sounded like anything but…crusty and constipated. She slowly reached for the phone. "Herbal, drop some of that I-and-I science on Wiggy here. And don't let him have no more beer." She waited until they left, Sketchy weaving slightly as he walked, and then turned back to the phone. "You callin' during personal time, you better be calling to apologize for what you said at work today. Otherwise, I'm hangin' up on your ass."

"There's a gun pointed at my head."

The word "gun" had cut through the alcohol a bit, but her mouth was still running on the fumes. "You do what you gotta do. But if you're askin' my advice on how to end it all, I'd suggest you put your head in the oven. Or go the sleepin' pill route." _Shit. Why the hell did I just say that?_

"Okay. Maybe I'm not making myself clear. There are men here with guns, boom boom, who intend to kill me if I don't—if we don't find their package, which has apparently been misplaced. I need your help," Normal pleaded, his normally stiff voice containing the slightest of trembles. 

Original Cindy already knew she was going to help him. After all, she was human. But she realized that this was the perfect time to get some payback. "Well, what's in it for me?"

There was a slight pause on the other end as Normal took a minute to consider the question. "Money. Lots of it. Ten bucks." 

Original Cindy sighed and rolled her eyes. _Man is more of an idiot than I thought. Or maybe he's a moron._

Apparently, Normal took her pause as a flat out rejection, because he upped his offer. "All right, make it twenty."

She was obviously going to need to be spelling it out for him. "I want an apology to every messenger at Jam Pony."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure," Normal quickly agreed.

"And I want it in writing," she added, knowing he would renege at his earliest convenience. An annoying echo of his voice sounded in her head, and she came up with one more stipulation. "And I don't ever wanna hear the words 'bip bip bip' again."

"That's…" Normal began, but quickly cut himself off as he realized he didn't really have a choice in the matter. "You'll never hear another 'bip' out of my cakehole as long as I live."

Normal using the term cakehole in its appropriate urban form was nearly payment enough. Nearly. Original Cindy leaned back, and willed her brain to sober up. "Okay. What's the dealio with the package?"

Normal couldn't give her too many details. The package was supposed to be for a Mr. Duvalier. The package received had that name on it, but the contents were the floor plans to a meat packing plant. 

"Who delivered the package to your gunslinger?" Original Cindy asked.

"How the hell am I supposed to…never mind," Normal said. There was a slight muffled sound as Normal tried to cover up the phone. "Uh, excuse me, Mr. Duvalier, sir. Would you mind telling me who delivered the package you mistakenly received?"

There were more mumbles, until a sharp, unfamiliar voice snapped out. "Dunno, some tall fool."

"Sketchy," Original Cindy and Normal said at the same time.

"Huh?" Sketchy lifted his head up off the bar at the sound of his name. Original Cindy waived him off and he dropped it back down with a hard _thunk_.

"Okay, gotta roll with this before you start kissin' lead. Best be thinkin' what you gonna put in that apology, Normal. Might take your mind off things." Original Cindy clicked off the phone, not waiting to hear if he had anything else to say. She stood and walked over to the bar. "Time to go, boys," she said grabbing Sketchy and Herbal by their collars, hauling them off their stools. Herbal caught his footing quickly, but Sketchy stumbled a little, trying to find his balance.

"Wuzzup, Oh Original One?" Sketchy slurred as he tried to straighten up and walk out the door steadily.

Original Cindy shook her head. Of all nights to get blitzed… "Soon as your ass gets outside, why don't you sick up some of that swill you been chuggin' all night. We're gonna need to be as levelheaded as some of us can be for this one."

"Why?" Herbal asked.

She sighed. "Normal needs our help." At the sound of Herbal Thought's snort and Sketchy's retching, she began to wonder what she was getting herself into. She filled them in on the way to Jam Pony, and was thankful that Sketchy's eyes looked a little clearer when they got there. The mail door was open – apparently Normal hadn't gotten a chance to lock up. They quickly got to work shuffling through the packages in the sorting area behind Normal's desk.

They realized after about 15 minutes of searching that the package wasn't there. "You sure you brought it back here after you picked it up?" Cindy asked Sketchy, hoping his mind was as clear as his eyes.

"I don't remember," he said while looking at the packages in his arms.

"Don't make me come over there and smack you," Original Cindy threatened.

Sketchy glanced up at her, a pained look in his eyes. "The only thing that I know for sure is that I can be relied upon to be unreliable. In many respects, Normal's right. I'm an idiot."

Herbal Thought shook his head, the events of the day finally coming together. "No. He's the idiot. Normal switched the contents of the packages after the swordfight. It's the only explanation."

"You mean I'm not an idiot?" Sketchy asked hopefully.

"Let's not go that far. Now who delivered the other mail tube?" Original Cindy grabbed the run clipboard off the counter, intending to answer her own question. She flipped through a couple pages, scanning the item description list, looking for something that fit right around the same time as the other package. She spotted another tube package on the list, and slid a finger over to the deliverer's name. Her face fell. "Well, hell."

"Who delivered it?" Herbal asked.

Original Cindy sighed. "Max did."

Sketchy looked at her like she was the idiot. "So? Call her up, ask what she did with the damn thing."

"Some people actually deliver their packages like they're supposed to," Original Cindy said, narrowing her eyes at Sketchy. "Max is a little busy tonight, so I guess I gotta try to handle this myself."

"Want help?" Herbal offered.

"Nuh-uh. Help from you two often gets me in hotter waters than I already swim in." She pulled a business card off the sheet it was stapled to, and walked toward the door. "Peace, all."

It was a long walk in the dark to the building a Mr. Angelo Biondello worked at, but Original Cindy didn't mind. Actually, it was more that she didn't have a choice. Buses didn't run that late, and cabs were just too expensive. When she arrived at the building, she glanced at the poorly lit structure. "I wonder what the chances are that I'd be able to get in that thing," she murmured to the empty street. She walked up to the first door she saw that wasn't in complete blackness, and pulled on the handles. Locked. She pressed the buzzer off to the side a few times in quick succession, but received no response. She pounded on the door, more in frustration than hoping someone would hear the knock, and turned away, scanning the street for a payphone. She dialed Max's pager number, which Max had thankfully given her that morning. After the beep, she entered the number for the payphone and waited. After a minute, the phone rang. "Yeah?"

"Me hittin' you back. S'up?" Max's voice came through, somewhat muffled by the background music that was playing.

Original Cindy began to give her the same story she gave to Sketchy and Herbal earlier. "That's the dealio, sugar. Packages got switched. Now I'm outside the building you made the drop at."

"Can I ask you one question?" Max asked. "Why exactly are we helping Normal?"

Original Cindy was beginning to wonder that herself. "Hey, Original Cindy don't like the man neither, but that don't mean she wanna see him with a bullet in his head."

"Yeah, I suppose," Max halfheartedly agreed.

Original Cindy glanced down at the business card she had brought with her. "You remember anything about this Angelo Biondello guy that you made the drop to?"

"No clue. Why?"

"'Cause the building's locked, and ain't nobody here to let me in," Original Cindy told her.

"So break in," Max said flippantly.

Original Cindy blinked at the phone. "Break into the building?"

"Yeah, and if Biondello's office is closed, just slim-jimmy your way in," Max continued.

This was going a little farther than Original Cindy wanted it to go. "I am not committing felony breaking and entering, even to save Normal's subhuman life. Besides, even if I could…I'd probably just get lost anyway."

There was hardly a pause before Max said, "I'm on my way."

Before Original Cindy could say anything else, the phone clicked, indicating Max had hung up. "Damn. So much for letting her have a good time tonight."

Surprisingly, less than ten minutes had passed before Max roared up in a silver convertible. Original Cindy thought her eyes would fall out of her head at the sight of Max primly getting out of the sweet car. "Sorry to pull you away from your do, boo," she apologized.

"No problem," Max replied, looking a little distracted.

Original Cindy wondered where the hell she got the vehicle. She'd ridden in Logan's Aztek, and it sure hadn't looked like the car Max came in. "Look at you flossin' in a dope ri-zide," Original Cindy said, trying to get some kind of hint from Max.

Max didn't bite, only passed Original Cindy her purse. "All right. Stay here and keep an eye out."

Original Cindy eyed Max's dress. "What are you gonna do?" Although, she wasn't really sure she wanted to know.

"Try not to wrinkle this dress. Cinderella's gotta return it in the morning." Max turned and walked away.

Original Cindy sighed as she waited. So Max was going to return the dress. It was a real shame, since Original Cindy had seen the look in her friend's eyes when she wore it. It was like the dress had the capability to turn Max into a prim, high-class woman, instead of being just another street rat. She glanced around at the empty streets, and began to wonder just what the hell Max wanted her to keep a lookout for. Even the vermin had deserted the area. Before she had a chance to wonder further, Max came walking back up to the car, holding a rolled up painting in one hand, and holding up the bodice of her dress with the other.

"Hey! Zip me up," she told Original Cindy.

Original Cindy decided that she really didn't want to know what Max had to do to get the painting back. She zipped up the dress and handed her the purse.

Max passed Cindy the painting and dug in her purse. She pulled out a small wad of paper, glancing at it confused for the briefest of seconds before her eyes widened in horror. She ran to the driver's side of the car. "Logan's – his speech!" she exclaimed as she all but dove in, and sped away.

"Have fun!" she called after her, shaking her head as she took off for the new delivery location.

Ironically, and fortunately, Duvalier's place wasn't that far from Biondello's building. OC knocked on the door and waited. A big brother with a shaved head and no pretences about being strapped answered the door, and stared down at Original Cindy. She tried her best not to shake as she told him, "Got a 911 delivery from Jam Pony?"

The bald man opened the door wider and said, "Upstairs," and began leading the way without seeing if Original Cindy was following.

They entered a room, and Original Cindy was mildly relieved to see that Normal was still alive and apparently in one piece. Normal glared at her and said, "It's about time! Bip—" before catching himself and lowering his glance. "Never mind." He stood up and looked at a man who must have been Duvalier. "Okay. Can I go?"

Duvalier shoved Normal back down on the couch. He unrolled the painting on a glass coffee table in the room, and then pulled out some kind of scanner to look at the painting. He smiled and said, "You actually thought you could lay a phony off on me, huh?"

Original Cindy paled until she realized that Duvalier was addressing another man she hadn't even realized was there.

The man's eyes widened and he began pleading with Duvalier. "Whoa – Hey, if that's a forgery, then I'm a victim here too, okay?" He made a small noise as Duvalier hit him, and began pleading harder. "I had the original, okay? I swear! Either my partner stabbed me in the back, or these guys are players." The man pointed at Normal and Original Cindy, trying to take some of the attention off himself.  
  
Original Cindy's heart was racing as she realized she was fast getting caught up in something totally bad. "Hey, I'm just the messenger, blood. We found your package. Now let my boy go. 'Cause believe me, he ain't no playa playa."

Duvalier looked at the man on the couch, and nearly smiled again as he asked, "Know what the word 'defenestration' means?"

The man tried his best. "Isn't that when you cut all the trees down?"

"Nah." Duvalier nodded to his bodyguards, who picked up the pleading man, dragged him over an open window and threw him out, screaming. "Now that's defenestration." He turned back to Original Cindy, and she swallowed, frightened by the cold look in his eyes. "I don't care what you gotta do to get me that painting. If it's not in my hands in the next two hours, then he's next." He pointed at Normal.

Original Cindy nodded, and looked at Normal briefly, before turning to leave. She tried not to think about the scared look on his face as she walked out the door to find another pay phone. There was no way she was going to make any calls from inside that place.

Original Cindy reached a payphone on the next block over, and wondered if this was why Max kept getting into trouble. She just didn't know how to say "no" or "fuck off" when people asked for help.

With a shaking hand, she dialed Max's pager for the second time that night. When Max called back, Cindy couldn't tell whether Max sounded distracted or angry as she said, "No, I'm not familiar with the term 'defenestration'."

"Let me enlighten you, sugah," Original Cindy said. "It means getting your ass heaved out a window."

"Ouch," Max said dryly.

"Yeah, ouch. Turns out the dude this dude rolls with tried to pass off a dud."

"Forgery, huh?"

"S'what I said, boo."

"And where'd Sketchy make the pickup?" Max asked.

Original Cindy closed her eyes in relief. She had now found herself on the ass saving list, and Max hadn't even thought twice about it. "Give me a lift, boo. I'll give you a hand."

Max rolled up in the same ride she'd had before. "Need a lift?" she asked, giving Original Cindy a smile that faded too quickly.

Original Cindy eyed Max, but smiled. "Of course I want a ride, if it's in that thing. Chance of a lifetime." She hurriedly slid in the passenger seat. She gave Max the address they needed to go to, but the woman didn't say anything as they drove away. Cindy looked at Max, and saw her alternately clenching and unclenching her hands on the steering wheel. "You aiight?"

Max looked at OC in surprise. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Original Cindy nodded at Max's hands. "You look like you'd rather be strangling someone instead of that wheel. If you didn't want to help out with this, all you had to do was say—"

"No!" Max exclaimed. "Original Cindy, no. I want to help out with this. It's just…"

"Party not going the way you wanted?" Original Cindy guessed.

Max sighed. "It's okay, but…I guess I thought it'd be a little different." She pulled the car to a stop in front of a dingy apartment building. They went in together, walked up to 7B, and knocked on the door. "So what's the dealio with this 'catching the bouquet' thing?" she asked.

Max never ceased to amaze Original Cindy with her lack of knowledge about seemingly everyday things. Max had talked about breaking and entering like it was something she did after brushing her teeth, yet weddings were such a foreign event to her. "Whoever gets it's supposed to get married next to the man of her dreams. Some kind of bent heterosexual thing," Original Cindy explained, tongue in cheek.

Max knocked again, and although the door she knocked on didn't open, one across the hall did. A woman stepped out in her robe. "D'you know where the guy is that lives here?" Max asked.

The woman told her, "He moved out this afternoon."

_Shit,_ Original Cindy thought. "You know where he went?"

The woman shook her head. "No. Musta hit it big at the track or somethin', though. Took off for the airport in a limo with three girls who weren't wearin' much at all."

Max thanked the woman, and then grabbed Original Cindy, jogging a little back to the car. They drove to the airport, but found that all flights had been delayed on account of fog. Max pushed the speed a little on the car as they headed to the closest motel.

"You know, Max, I appreciate you helping me spare Normal's ass, but it ain't gonna do him no good if you get us killed," Original Cindy warned, gripping the door as they quickly sped through the parking lot.

Max shook her head. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. But this is taking too much time. We may be cutting it close." She parked the car directly in front of the lobby, ignoring the fire lane warnings. They went in, and she asked for the room of the "guy with the most flash." The concierge eyed both girls, giving Max and Original Cindy an idea of what the guy was doing, and directed them to a room. They burst through the door. A man was in a hot tub with several women, and he looked at Max and Original Cindy in startled amazement as they walked up to the tub.

Max glared at him. "I'm gonna need your undivided attention because I got somewhere else I gotta be. What did you do with it?"

"Do I know you girls?" the man asked.

Max responded by grabbing his head and dunking him underwater, holding him for a minute. Original Cindy tried to look like the casual second arm, but inside she was shaking, a little worried that Max wouldn't know what she was doing and drown the schmuck.

One of the women in the tub giggled as she swung her thin flute of champagne around. "I didn't know he was into scenarios. How much is he paying you for this?"

Max released the man and asked again. "Where's the real painting?"

Realization flashed through the man's eyes even as he proclaimed, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Max went straight towards pissed. "Let me fill in the blanks. You went up for auction and double-crossed your partner, now deceased. You're skipping town with the cash, only your flight was delayed on account of the weather. So here you are in a mo-mo with your little playmates, waiting for the fog to lift."

The man tried to do his best to talk himself out of the situation. "Look, whoever you are, you've got it all wrong."

Original Cindy'd had enough of his blustering. It was time to play her part. She pushed up her sleeves and said, "Here, let me do this, boo, so you don't mess up your dress." She grabbed the man's head herself, and pushed him under, holding him for about as long as Max did, and then releasing him.

Apparently, the man had enough swimming for the night. "Hey! Okay!"

"Where's the real painting?" Max repeated threateningly.

The man gave in and told her. "I sold it to this Korean ship captain. The big guy over there, Kim somebody, is a real connoisseur. Wanted it for the presidential palace."

Max looked at Original Cindy. "Let's go." They jogged back out to the car, and Max sped away.

After she managed to get a look at the scenery that was flying by, Original Cindy asked Max, "Where are we going? 'Cuz we ain't headed nowhere near the docks."

Max shook her head. "We're going back to the wedding."

Original Cindy blinked. "Okay, boo, I know you all excited about this shindig and all, but Normal's life is on the line here. I think your do may need to wait."

Max smiled and pushed her foot down on the accelerator. "Don't worry yet. We still got, what? An hour?"

"'Bout that."

"Should be just enough time, if I get a little help finding which ship it's on," Max said.

The light dawned for Original Cindy. "And you got someone at that party who might be able to help you, huh?"

Max nodded. "Yup."

"Do I even ask…?"

"Nope."

Max pulled up to a giant house with lights blazing from every window. "Jesus," Original Cindy said, awestruck. "You'd think that they was burning money in there by the way the place glows."

Max rolled her eyes. "You never know. They might be," she muttered. She looked at Original Cindy, who was still sitting in the car. "You coming?"

"Huh? Me? In there? I don't think—"

Max waved at her. "Get out of the car."

Original Cindy got out of the car, and tried to keep holding her head up as they walked inside. Max stopped the valets with a raised hand. "I'll be out in a few, boys. No need to worry about me," she said in a slightly sultry voice.

Original Cindy whispered to Max, "I think they's gonna wet themselves if you talk like that again." As Max laughed, Original Cindy looked around the room they entered. Everywhere she looked, it seemed like the dancing people sparkled, both from their clothing and from the jewels draped all over them. "Nothing like a room full of flat-ass white girls to get your mind off a defenestration." She picked a glass of champagne off a server's tray, intending to drink away her memories of earlier.

Max motioned her to wait, and then walked away. Even with the noise of the room, Original Cindy could hear Max's voice carry as she walked by an older woman and stiffly said, "Nice locket." Original Cindy didn't hear the woman's response, but instead continued to watch Max as she made her way through the crowd to Logan, who seemed to be intently talking with a skinny blonde woman. A few unheard words were all it took to get Logan to leave the room with Max. Original Cindy couldn't help but wonder if that was part of Max's mood – the fact that Logan was talking to someone other than his "date".

Original Cindy stood around, feeling a little foolish for not being as dressed up as the other people there. But within five minutes, Max was back, and standing at her shoulder. "Find out where it's at?"

Max nodded. "And I got it covered. I need to ask you a favor. You see that girl over there?" She pointed to the skinny blonde who had been talking to Logan, who was now dancing with another guy.

Original Cindy sure could see all of her. Quite well. "Mm-hmm," she hummed, trying not to be too obvious, not entirely sure what Max was after.

Max glanced at Original Cindy. "That's Logan's ex."

Everything clicked now, and Original Cindy smiled. "I got your back."

"Thanks, boo," Max said, relief in her voice.

As Max left, Original Cindy watched the man dance away from the blonde, and couldn't help but notice the slightly relieved look on the blonde's face. OC stepped in and said, "You got smooth moves, boo."

The woman looked at Original Cindy and smiled.

Original Cindy blinked at the frank look. But she couldn't be sure if the woman had _looked_ looked at her, or had just checked out her clothes. Either way, Original Cindy smiled back. "Name's Original Cindy."

"It's very nice to meet you, Original Cindy. I'm Daphne," was the returned introduction. Daphne grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server, and gestured with it to the dancing bridal couple. "So are you bride's side or groom's?"

Original Cindy shrugged, already deciding that she wasn't going to dance around the reality of the situation. "I guess if you want to be technical, the groom's. I think. It's really neither."

Daphne raised a slim eyebrow and grinned, showing a nice display of brilliant white teeth. "Is that so? You crashin' then?"

Original Cindy raised an eyebrow of her own. "I was invited. Kinda. My friend who left me is…was…here with the best man."

Daphne nodded, understanding. "You mean Logan. So you're with…Max?"

"Well, not with her in the strictest sense of the word," Original Cindy clarified, "but she dumped my ass here so she could run an errand."

Daphne chuckled. "That's alright. I don't think anyone will notice you."

OC looked down at her clothes. "Girl, you either being kind or being blind, 'cuz I don't see how a peasant could not stand out in a crowd of royalty."

Now Daphne's laugh was free, and rather loud. "Trust me. This group of blue-blooded highbrows could use a little of your blood in the mix. Might loosen them up enough to get the stick out of their collective ass."

They continued to talk for some time, not really going beyond the superficial: jobs, friends, activities. After a while, the dancing music stopped, and the murmurs of the crowd around them began to increase in volume. "What's up?" Original Cindy asked Daphne.

Daphne looked around. "I think it's time to throw the bouquet."

Sure enough, someone called loudly to the group, "If all the single women would please gather underneath the balcony, we can get on with throwing the bouquet!"

Both Original Cindy and Daphne moved with the rest of the women crowding their way forward. Daphne chose a position near the front of the group, but Original Cindy chose a place off to the side, not really wanting to be involved. When she got to her place, she noticed that Max was back, and although she was smiling prettily, it seemed that the discussion she was having with Logan was pretty heated. "I guess Normal's alive," Original Cindy said to herself, as the women began to cheer in anticipation. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bride toss the bouquet over one shoulder, but didn't notice much more than that, since all she could now see was Max leaping away from her spot to hit the bouquet, which had been heading directly toward Daphne. 

Original Cindy caught it instead.

She glanced up from the bouquet, first sending a quick glare at Max, and then looking up toward the bride and groom, who were smiling broadly, but obviously had no clue who she was. Original Cindy glanced down at the bouquet again, turning it in her hands, trying to figure out what to do with the damn thing. Daphne wandered over to Original Cindy, apparently to offer her congratulations. Original Cindy didn't give her any time to say anything, just passed the bouquet to Daphne, telling her, "Waste of good mojo, you ask me. Original Cindy ain't lookin' for no husband."

There was no question about the look Daphne gave her that time. It was pretty self-satisfied as she offered, "What do you say we go shoot some pool?"

Original Cindy grinned. Best offer she'd had all night. "All right with me, girl."

They both grabbed another flute of champagne, and Original Cindy managed to scam a bottle from a server. Daphne led the way through the house to what was probably considered the "Men's Room." The room was furnished with dark woods, lots of leather, and, of course, a pool table. The air smelled heavily of expensive cigars. Original Cindy wrinkled her nose as she stepped into the room. "Original Cindy's gonna get high from all the tobacco in the air."

Daphne laughed again loudly, almost raucously. "I'd offer to crack a window, but…" she gestured at the solid walls, "obviously sunlight would spoil the den of iniquity atmosphere."

Original Cindy grinned and grabbed a pool cue, checking the balance. "Why do men have to put themselves through this whole fiasco to remind themselves they's men, when they could just reach down and grab themselves much cheaper?"

Daphne grinned and took a cue from Original Cindy, letting their fingers brush as she pulled it away. "Didn't you know? This is the most hygienic way of doing just that. They can each grab their stick, aim it at holes, and pray something makes it in. If they're the one that finishes first, even better."

Original Cindy choked as some champagne went down the wrong pipe. "You are a female after my own heart," OC told her.

Daphne looked up slyly from where she was racking the balls. "Are you sure that's what I'm after?"

Original Cindy shook her head. "I ain't _even_ gonna go there yet. Maybe after I've known you for more than two hours."

"Fine with me. I gotta couple of hours to spare," Daphne said, shrugging.

"So...if this is men's way of pseudo-grabbing themselves…what are _we_ doing playing this game?" Original Cindy asked, trying to go back to the original topic.

Daphne took aim at the cue ball and shot. The balls shot in every direction, but only one made it in. "Because where else do you get to break balls and not have to listen to that annoying shriek of pain that invariably comes after? Stripes."

"Just checkin'. Original Cindy likes to check where all the playas stand." She watched as Daphne got a second ball in, but missed a third shot. They were silent for a while, in a comfortable way, as they each took their turn at the table. Daphne was a good player, but Original Cindy was better, thanks to hours of practice at Crash. She sank the eight ball cleanly, and turned to Daphne with a smile. "Sorry 'bout that, boo, but this game was all mine. Maybe next time."

"I like that you think there's gonna be a next time." Daphne picked up the bottle of champagne and refilled their glasses. She half-fell into a large leather sofa, toed off her shoes, and took a long sip from her glass. She eyed Original Cindy's clothes wistfully. "I am really wishing right now that I'd gone with comfort instead of fashion. Give me my crusty jeans and holey sneakers any day."

Original Cindy took a sip of champagne and sighed, taking a seat next to Daphne. "And here I was thinkin' I'da gone for something a little more done up."

Daphne shook her head. "You're better off being who you are."

Original Cindy gave Daphne a suspicious look. "And just how the hell do you manage that when you're stuck being in with that crowd?" she accused, cocking a finger toward the closed door.

Daphne shrugged. "I may not want to be a playa, but I sure as hell know the rules of the game. I'll be snooty and stuffy for them, but only if it serves a purpose for me."

"And where does Original Cindy fit in all this?" Original Cindy asked softly.

Daphne didn't say anything, only half-closed her eyes as she examined Cindy's face carefully. She then leaned in, and gave her a gentle kiss.

When Daphne pulled away, Original Cindy sighed at the sudden loss of contact. "Just so I know where I stand, boo." She carefully laid a hand on the exposed skin of Daphne's leg, and leaned toward her once more. They were a breath away when the door opened.

A surprised young man in a tux blinked at the two of them. "Oh…I…uh," he stammered, blushing furiously. "Sorry, I didn't realize that…uh…"

Original Cindy and Daphne looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Original Cindy grasped Daphne's hands and pulled her up from the couch. "Come on, sugah. I think we's bein' evicted."

Daphne laughed cheerfully, waving at the young man as they left the room. They wandered back toward the main room, and were rather surprised to notice that only a few stragglers were remaining. A couple more men in tuxes headed in the direction of the poolroom, presumably to join the first in a game. The music had long stopped playing, and the DJ was beginning to pack up the equipment. "Looks like we missed the party," Daphne said, not looking a bit displeased.

Original Cindy scanned the few chatting people in the room. Her very recognizable friends were nowhere to be seen. "Damn. Looks like my ride split without me."

"Why don't I give you a ride?" Daphne offered. She then thought of the other way that could be taken, and grinned. "I think I'll just leave it at that."

Original Cindy swung an arm around the blonde's waist. "Original Cindy's got coffee back at the crib."

Daphne's lips twisted up wryly as she linked her arm over OC's, effectively locking it in place. "I could go for some coffee about now." They let go of each other long enough to climb into a standard gray sedan. Once inside, they linked fingers as they drove off.

Original Cindy gave Daphne directions to her apartment, and then leaned back, examining the interior of the car. "You keep surprising me, Daphie dear. I would have figured you for a cherry red convertible."

Daphne laughed, noticing her new nickname. "Not in this economy, honey. I live a little more upclass than most, but I don't have a garage." She took a turn, and then cut her eyes to Original Cindy. "Daphie dear don't like lookin' for pieces of her car." She pulled to a slow stop in front of Original Cindy's apartment, and parked. "Plus gray blends better than cherry red."

"Some taggers come along, it'll blend even better," Original Cindy said, but didn't comment further as they went inside the building. Original Cindy unlocked her door, and gestured Daphne to go in first. "Slum sweet home."

Daphne took a quick lap around the small apartment, glancing at the posters on the walls and the knick-knacks that Original Cindy had arranged carefully throughout the place. "I hate to tell you, but this is a little more upscale looking than a slum."

Original Cindy looked over her shoulder as she headed toward the kitchen. "Not much more upscale. How do you take your coffee?"

"Damn. I thought you were just making an excuse to get me in your bed. Black, please," Daphne said, sighing. She pulled off her shoes, and then followed Original Cindy into the kitchen.

"Sorry, girl. But Original Cindy don't do much more than kiss on the first date. Even _I_ have my standards." Original Cindy reached into a cabinet and pulled out a can of coffee that she had, thankfully, just bought a few days before.

Daphne leaned on the wall. "We're not on a date," she teased.

Original Cindy laughed. "You still not going further than first base." She put some grounds in a percolator, and turned back to Daphne.

Daphne had wandered over to the refrigerator and was looking at the picture of Original Cindy and Max. "This is Logan's girl…Max? She looks so different here."

"How so?" Original Cindy asked, cocking her head to one side.

Daphne shook her head. "I don't know. More relaxed, I guess. How long've they been together?"

Original Cindy rolled her eyes as she added the water and set the percolator on the stove. "Depends on who you ask. If you ask them, they ain't together."

Daphne looked at Original Cindy, her eyes full of humor. "And if I ask you?"

OC grinned. "About ten months." A small silence went by until the coffee began to boil. After it had boiled for a few minutes, she pulled the coffee off the stove, poured it into two mugs, and handed one to Daphne.

Daphne took a sip of the coffee and sighed appreciatively. "Same old Logan. Always saw the opposite of how things really were."

"What do you mean?"

Daphne shrugged and turned her cup around in her hands. "We were engaged for about 30 seconds. The whole process consisted of 'Sure…uh, wait. No.' I'm not sure he ever realized…"

"He was on the wrong team?" Original Cindy knew how that went sometimes.

"Yeah," Daphne laughed. "And that was the only 30 seconds I ever caved to duty and status. For 30 seconds I settled. Then I came to my senses and realized I wasn't ready to settle. Not with him, not with anybody. Still won't, actually."

Original Cindy smiled. "I feel ya." Long short-term relationships were all she was ready to have in her life right now. She'd had a feeling early on that evening that Daphne had felt the same. "More coffee?"

"Sure."

Original Cindy refilled both of their mugs, and the two of them continued chatting, alternating back and forth from the mundane to life's mysteries until the coffee had gone cold and they could see the first hints of daylight through the window. Taking a final swig from her mug, Daphne began to slip her shoes back on her feet. "I'd better get going," she told Original Cindy. "If I don't get at least some rest today, I'll be a mess at work tomorrow."

"Same here, sugah," Original Cindy said as she led Daphne to the door. "It's a little hard to sleep-ride my bike. Although, got a couple friends who seem to manage from time to time."

Daphne looked at Original Cindy and gave her a cheerful smile. "It was wonderful to meet you, Original Cindy. I'll give you a call sometime."

Cindy smiled wryly and said, "Yeah, you do that, Daphie dear." She leaned over and gave Daphne a parting kiss. "Drive safe."

Original Cindy watched until Daphne turned the corner at the end of the hall and was out of sight. OC turned and slowly shut the door. She knew Daphne wouldn't call again. Their worlds were too different to get along. 

_And what about Max and Logan?_ a little voice in her head questioned.

Original Cindy shrugged that off as she walked into the kitchen to clean the percolator. "They're different," she said to the empty apartment. "They don't live in separate worlds. They live in their own little world. They'll be fine, if they just figure out the truth of things." She rinsed the mugs and set them aside to clean later. She turned away from the sink…

…and watched as the picture of her and Max fell gently from the refrigerator door, floating slowly to the ground.

Original Cindy frowned, and walked over to pick it up. "I wonder why that happened?" she murmured, noting that the magnet holding it was still in place. She moved to the window, and looked out at the city. It seemed like a fog had rolled in at some point during the night, and now hovered over the city like an eerie phantom. She turned away, knowing the fog would lift soon. She returned the picture to its rightful place, smiling at her friend and the longest relationship she'd ever had, and went to go to bed.

As she fell asleep, her last feeling was that something was about to change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 6 - Rising Above

_Coming September 2_


	7. Chapter 6 Rising Above

_Images - Chapter 6 - Rising Above_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Original Cindy practically danced all the way back to her apartment. A job. A _real_ job, as Herbal Thought had put it. This was something she hadn't really expected in her wildest dreams. A chance to perhaps scramble up off of the gigantic trash heap of her life, and onto bigger and better things. Like maybe a smaller trash heap. 

The only worry she'd really had about taking this new job was leaving all of her friends behind. Especially Max. It hadn't escaped Original Cindy's notice that her best friend had been the only one of the Jam Pony crew who _hadn't_ been begging her to let them ride on her coattails. She knew it wasn't because Max absolutely adored working at Jam Pony, but couldn't put her finger on a good explanation. She shoved her friend to the back of her mind, knowing Max could take care of herself, and unlocked her apartment, preparing to really shine herself up for this new gig.

It didn't take very long for her to get ready, and soon she was back out on the street. She barely gave a second glance to three men walking stiffly, but with purpose, as she passed by them. "Hope they get those sticks out of their asses before they meet however whoever they gonna be seein'," she said to herself, but quickly forgot them as she made her way to her new employer's.

The woman assigned to train Original Cindy was just a little too perky. Her voice had a squeaky lilt as she asked, "So, have you worked in insurance before?"

Original Cindy quickly racked her brain for anything appropriate. "Technically speaking, no. But remember back in school when you used to play the dozens?"

The woman blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"You know – tradin' insults. Like, 'Your breath so bad, people call you on the phone, they hang up.' I happen to be blessed with mad verbal skills. Kids used to pay me cash money to come up with dis they could use. So in a way, I guess you could say I sold insurance against catastrophic tongue failure." Original Cindy nearly grimaced. _Speakin' too fast, sugar. A wonder this chick – what was her name? – don't take back this job already._

If the woman minded Original Cindy's ramblings, she didn't show a sign. She just handed her a piece of paper. "Mmm. Maybe you better familiarize yourself with this. It's our standard sales pitch. Our manager, Mr. Petrick, likes us to stick to the script."

"No problem, sugar." Original Cindy smiled as she took a seat at her desk. _My desk!_ a stunned part of her brain cheered.

"Uhh…here's the schedule of benefits for our policy. It's a good idea to memorize it so you can answer any questions customers might have." The woman passed OC another sheet.

"Aiight." Some obscene part of Original Cindy's mind wished the woman would say, "bip" just once. Then maybe her stomach would settle and she could begin kicking ass.

"Well! I have to run to the bank for Mr. Petrick. When I get back, we'll set you up with some numbers so you can start cold calling. Okay?"

"Okay." _Would you leave already?_

"Okay," the woman repeated before she turned and walked away.

Original Cindy shot the woman a quick thumbs-up and picked up the pages the woman had left. "Have you ever worried what might happen to you or your dependents if you were left unable to work due to a disfiguring accident? Well, worry no more," she read aloud. She rolled her eyes and flipped the pages face down on the desk. She stared at them for nearly fifteen minutes before slowly picking them up again, almost unwilling to believe she was going to be a playa in this strange game.

She passed up the stupid script that she knew she would have to learn one of these days, and instead chose to focus on the sheet of benefits, knowing that What's-Her-Name was right, that memorizing it would probably up her chances of success. If only reading it wasn't such a trip…

"Okay, I think they've got to be making some of this up. I'm pretty sure there's not a part of the body called _that_. If so, Original Cindy ain't even gonna start thinkin' on what it's used for," OC said, laughing. She quickly cut off her laugh as What's-Her-Name came back. Thankfully, Tammy, as OC later came to learn her name was, was a little busy when she returned, so she only passed Original Cindy the sheet of numbers to call, and quickly left.

For the rest of the day, Original Cindy did her absolute best. Her initial goal was to make five sales. By the end of the day, her goal was to at least get someone to talk to her. Finally, she found one guy who sounded interested. "$25,000 if you lose an eye and a leg, or both eyes and a hand. And if you sign up now, you can take advantage of this offer that won't cost you an arm and a leg…" she rolled her eyes at the lame script, but her attention quickly returned.

"Would you…uh…mind if I asked you a few questions?" the man asked in a breathy voice.

Original Cindy was surprised, but couldn't help the feeling of pride that washed over her, as she knew she had finally found her rhythm. "A few questions? Sure. What do you want to know?"

"My buddy."

Original Cindy blinked. "Excuse me?"

"My buddy, my beatin' partner. How much if I lost 'im?" His breathing speeded up.

"How much if you lost your _what_?"

"What if I totally jerk 'im off?" The man groaned and Original Cindy could hear the slap of skin on skin through the line. "What are you wearing?" the man whispered deeply.

"What am I wearing? Freak!" Original Cindy quickly clicked off the line and pulled off her headset, incensed and disappointed by how the call had ended.

It was already late by the time she left Washington-Meridian Insurance. She was dejected that she wouldn't have a glorious tale of major cash rolling in to tell her friends at Crash. As she walked through the door, she barely had time to greet Herbal Thought and Sketchy before Max quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her off towards the foosball table, talking a mile a minute.

"Hold up," Original Cindy finally interrupted, barely able to understand Max's gritted jabber. "What's this about Kendra and an alter? Original Cindy knew that girl's willing to experiment, but I think that one's a first for her." Original Cindy plucked the ball out of the return slot, and dropped it in the middle of the table, sending it spinning into play. "But I'm not sure that's enough to get your undies in the high twist they seem to be."

Max glared at her friend and blew out a frustrated breath, grabbing the handles on the side of the table, and twisting angrily. "Not Kendra and an alter. Your ears must be busted or somethin'. I said Kendra and _Walter_," Max enunciated each word to a fine clip. "Walter!"

Original Cindy looked up from the table and frowned. "Who?"

Max sighed and closed her eyes briefly, still managing to get one of the foosmen to "kick" the ball across the table. "Walter, the doughnut patroller who used to shake us down for as much as he could manage? I found him and Kendra…together…with handcuffs."

Original Cindy understood. At least, until her brain began to freeze up at the mental image it was creating. She ignored it and tried to think logically. "So she's hitting it with the po-po, and getting kinky with the handcuffs, huh?"

"Do you mind? I'm trying to purge that particular image from my memory." Max kept her attention riveted to game.

Original Cindy tried to do the same, but couldn't help commenting. "Original Cindy can understand the power of a well-starched uniform. I once had me a girlfriend that was one hundred percent U.S. Marine. Damn, she was fine in her dress blues. Teeennn-HUT!" Happy visions flooded into her mind, chasing away the image of Kendra and her new love toy…toys.

"He's twice her age," Max complained.

"Original Cindy can understand the allure of maturity. I once had a girlfriend who had a daughter that was older than me. She was fine, too. Which got kinda complicated, but we not gonna go into that."

"Will you stop?!" Max practically begged.

Original Cindy looked up at Max, and was somewhat surprised to see how pained Max seemed to be about all of this. "All I'm sayin' is, it takes all kinds to make a world. This cop moves Kendra's furniture, who are we to judge?"

Max barely hesitated before admitting, "It's just everywhere I look, people keep changing on me. You know, Kendra's knocking boots with a guy whose coffee I used to spit in. You're making a getaway from Jam Pony hell, and Logan's…I don't know."

_And here we go again back to the root of the problem. No wonder she actin' so whacked out._ "What? Your squeeze givin' you a hard time, sugar?" Original Cindy said gently, not totally expecting Max to open up.

Max didn't disappoint. Her answer was an evasive one, "No. It's just his…possibilities are…expanding. And he's not my squeeze."  
  
Original Cindy almost laughed. It took a full ten seconds for Max to protest "squeeze". She must be getting more used to the idea. Both of their hands stilled on the foosball handles for a few seconds. "Hmm. Is he kickin' it with someone else?" 

"No," Max said. They began the game again. "It's all good. It's just all…different."

Original Cindy sighed, almost wishing Max and Logan would shack up already and give her some peace. "Boo, you dwellin' too much on things that ain't party-related." Max quickly spun one of the levers, and sent the ball rocketing into Original Cindy's goal. Every single game, Max pulled that move…and won. Even after all of this time, OC wasn't sure how she'd managed it. And, like every other time, Max looked up at her with a purely self-satisfied look on her face. "You know what you need?" Original Cindy asked.

"A pitcher of beer," answered Max with a slight smile.

"Read my mind."

They headed off to a table that Herbal Thought and Sketchy had already taken over. Sketchy, bless his soul, was pouring Original Cindy the rest of the beer into a glass for her. 

"So how much you rake in today?" Sketchy asked with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

With Max's newest drama, Original Cindy had forgotten about the crappy end today. _What else are friends for, but to keep you from thinkin' on the bad stuff?_ "Nothing," she admitted. "As in zip, zero, nada."

"You mean to say that you worked hard all day with no compensation whatsoever?" Herbal said in his precisely unaccented speech.

"Are you okay?" Max asked with concern.

Original Cindy was surprised that Max hadn't heard him speak yet; judging by her mostly emptied glass, she figured the woman had been at Crash for a while. Instead, she must have just been knocking back really quickly. "Brotha man's just havin' an identity crisis. Anyway, the dealio with this job is it's a commission-type situation. I followed the script they gave me, straight up."

"And no sale?" Sketchy questioned, unable to believe his ears.

"Not even a nibble. I even code-switched. Pulled way back on the flavor," she said, the disappointment beginning to rise again.

"See, that's the problem. You're not being yourself," Max said softly. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she spoke, and a quick flash of something flitted behind her eyes – guilt, concern, worry, _something_. But it just vanished as soon as it came. Original Cindy was surprised to see that much behind the mask at all, and figured that Max must have identified somehow with her own words.

"I don't know, boo. Sister girl want the scrilla, peeps gotta feel what she's puttin' down," Original Cindy said, taking a drink of her beer.

Max reached across the table in an obvious gesture, picking up the pitcher and standing. "Next round's on me."

"So what are you gonna do?" Sketchy asked. "You gotta do somethin', or you'll soon be hockin' all your Xena stuff to survive."

Original Cindy glared at Sketchy. Somewhere in the bar, she heard the sound of glass breaking, unaccompanied by the usual applause given to the unfortunate klutz. "Don't worry, Sketchy. I'd even let _you_ pimp me out before I let one of my Xena bits go."

"My sister, perhaps selling one or two of your little souvenirs would ease up your wallet. Then you wouldn't have to worry so much about this new job," Herbal pointed out.

Original Cindy shifted her glare. "And why don't you go buy yourself a tie and 2.5 kiddies to complete your new 'look'? When are _you_ gonna step to the real, like Max said, and be yourself?" She took a last sip out of her glass and stared into the foam ringing the bottom.

Herbal Thought just laughed. "Maybe by the time you make a return to Jam Pony. I am loyal to my woman, and if she asks me to try to…enunciate…more, I will. However long it takes."

"Hey, speaking of Max, where's our beer?" Sketchy interrupted.

Original Cindy looked up, suddenly realizing that Max _had_ been gone for a long time. She shrugged and stood. "Homegirl probably just havin' some trouble liftin' that heavy ol' pitcher." She smiled, knowing Max could easily heft her bike over her shoulder, so a pitcher full of beer would be no trouble. "I'd better go see what's got her jammed up." She pushed away from the table, and headed towards the main room. She turned a corner, scanning the area for any sign of her friend.

"Hey, Lamar!" Original Cindy called to the bartender as she approached the bar. 

Lamar was busily pouring drinks for the large crowd huddled at the bar, but took a moment to walk over to Cindy. "What can I get you?"

"You see Max around?"

Lamar shrugged. "Saw her when she came in tonight, but not since."

"Oh, okay. Th—"

"Coupla the peeps say they saw a hot chick sprintin' outta here, though. Coulda been her," he continued.

Original Cindy blinked, and frowned. She turned, examining the room more closely, and spotted a pitcher, shattered on the floor. "Thanks, man," she said absently over her shoulder as she quickly returned to Sketchy and Herbal. She stopped their questions with a quick look as she grabbed her coat. "Max is feelin' a little punk. I'm gonna walk her back to her crib."

Both men frowned. "She didn't seem to be feeling ill," Herbal remarked, concerned.

"Need help?" Sketchy, too, looked worried about their friend.

"Nah, I got her back," Original Cindy replied as she walked quickly away from the table.

Once she got outside, she took a deep breath of the stale Seattle air, not really sure what to do. She thought briefly about calling Logan, but knew that since Max "departed" so quickly, he probably had no idea what was going on. At least not yet. And trying to find her was pointless. She'd been there, done that one time too often. She began walking and hoped she'd figure out where she was going once she got there.

The city streets seemed clean in the darkness. The ever-present rain puddles added a shine to the slickness that permeated the ground. Still, OC quickly sidestepped these as she wandered the streets. After about thirty minutes of walking, she found herself standing in front of an apartment building that had never quite made it to getting finished. She looked up at the darkened structure, and whispered, "Well, boo, hope you was smart and ran home." She walked up to the large piece of plywood that served as the main entrance door, and ducked under the large chain that held it shut.

Six flights of stairs later, Original Cindy was breathing a little heavily from the exertion. "You'd think they could squat on, say, the fifth floor. But, _nooooo_. Skinny-ass has to get the extra two floor workout. Like she even needs it." She walked over to the door to Max and Kendra's apartment and knocked. She smiled when she noticed that there was no number on the door. Most people in the building had some kind of number, even if there was no consistency in the numbering system. Original Cindy had heard Max complain many times about the "idiot in 12B", even though there were five 12B's on that floor. And she was pretty sure there were also two more on the 13th floor, for those who were superstitious. But no number for Max. OC could imagine that her individualist friend wouldn't want any type of label.

After standing in the hall for several long, anxious minutes, Original Cindy realized that neither Max nor Kendra was home. She reached to try the doorknob, and found the door unlocked, even though there was a deadbolt. No need to lock up around this dump. She walked into the pitch-black apartment, and fumbled around for the light switch. She flicked the first one she could find, and the pitiful excuse for fluorescent lighting sputtered to life. "Well, at least there ain't no bodies lyin' around." Although she joked even to herself, she was relieved. She was also relieved that Max's motorcycle was still there. She knew Max wouldn't go anywhere without that thing.

She sighed as she took a quick lap around the apartment. She'd been there several times before, but it seemed that each time was a surprise. Original Cindy could see hints of Kendra everywhere – in the coloring, the bits of underwear laying about – but other than the motorcycle, there was no real indication that Max lived there at all. It was almost as though it was merely a place for her to exist. 

That thought frightened her a bit. Max had always struck her as the type who could pick up and leave at a moment's notice, even though she had lived in Seattle for several years now. There were no attachments keeping her here. Logan was the closest thing, but every time Max denied that there was something between them, that was one less tie holding her down. That motorcycle would be able to carry her far away from whatever had been chasing her, other nights and tonight. _Well,_ Original Cindy thought, settling herself in a chair next to it. _At least tonight she'd have to get by me first. 'Cuz Original Cindy ain't goin' nowhere._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Original Cindy. Wake up!" a rusty voice called through her foggy dreams.

Original Cindy moaned and rubbed her eyes, blinking at the harsh light flooding the room. _Light?_ She knew that the kitchen light didn't brighten the dingy apartment that well. Looking around quickly, she saw that the shades had been drawn to let the morning sunlight in. Her eyes finally focused on a face that was way too close: Kendra. Original Cindy blinked hard again and jerked out of the chair. "Oh God! I can't believe I fell asleep. I'm gonna be late for work!"

Kendra laughed. "Don't worry. It's still pretty early. You should be good."

Original Cindy saw that Max's motorcycle was still in place from the night before. "Max come home?" she asked.

Kendra shook her head. "Not that I know of. Haven't seen her, and she's usually awake way before now."

Original Cindy was both relieved and worried at the same time. If she could just talk to Max, she'd feel a lot better. "I don't know how she does it. Original Cindy needs her solid eight or she's moldy in the a.m." Original Cindy stretched the kinks out of her neck, and checked her watch. "Looks like I got 'em last night, barely. But I don't think I'm gonna be able to bounce back to my crib before I gotta be at work."

"I heard a rumor you managed to ditch Scum Pony. Your new deal got a dress code?" Kendra questioned.

Original Cindy shrugged. "Yes and no. OC can't be lookin' like she crawled in off the streets, but she don't need to be no macked out deal, neither."

Kendra nodded and pulled on Cindy's arm. "Come on. I think I've got something for you. And if it doesn't work, we'll raid Max's closet." Kendra managed to come up with a red shirt that possibly clung a little too close for the workplace, but made Original Cindy feel a bit more comfortable. A pair of Max's black stretchy leather pants, and the boots she'd worn yesterday, completed the outfit. Kendra waved her out the door with a large smile. "Have a nice day!"

"You, too, boo!" Original Cindy called behind her as she began the walk down the hall. But after a few steps, she paused and turned. "Hey, Kendra!"

Kendra stopped just as she began to close the apartment door and leaned back outside. "Yeah?"

"Walter?"

Kendra's smile softened and her eyes sparkled. "Yeah, Walter."

Original Cindy smiled. "He moves your furniture, that's cool, long as he takes good care of you."

Kendra waved and shut the door. As Original Cindy walked down the stairs, she thought, _Sketchy and Herbal each have their own womenfolk, Kendra has Walter, and Max has Logan. So who's gonna take care of Original Cindy?_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another long, disappointing day at Washington Meridian Insurance. Even though Original Cindy had managed to arrive on time, it was obvious that most of the other employees had been there for hours. Tammy didn't hesitate to cheerfully point out this fact, and to encourage Original Cindy to become more of a "team player".

She didn't know how badly Original Cindy wanted to switch teams at that moment.

Original Cindy's throat was sore from talking all day, even though it was mostly in short sentences. Call after call, people didn't let her get very far in her script before they slammed the phone down. Her ears were beginning to ring from all the times she listened to a dial tone. She worked hard, continuously through her lunch hour and after everyone had gone home. With no sales under her belt, she was beginning to get desperate. She'd thought of paging Max, not only to check and make sure she was okay, but also to just break the monotony of hello-click. However, no sales meant no money, and Original Cindy decided she'd be able to hook up with her friend later. Max would be fine.

It was well into the evening when Original Cindy gave herself one final shot. _This is it. All or nothing. This call will either be the one that starts something, or ends it. _The phone rang twice before a frustrated sounding man picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello? Is this Mr. Rogelio Riquelme?" Original Cindy was pleased that she was able to get the difficult name out without too much trouble. One thing she'd learned was that the slightest mispronunciation could end a phone call before it had even started.

"Yeah. This is him."

She took a quick breath and began. "Have you ever worried what might happen to you or your dependents if you were left unable to work due to a disfiguring accident?"

"Oh, God!" Rogelio exclaimed. "Another fuckin' telemarketer. Jesus!"

"No no, don't hang up," Original Cindy begged.

"And why shouldn't I?"

Original Cindy hadn't realized that her plea had been aloud, but, resigned, she gave it everything she had. "Do not hang up this phone," she demanded.

The man paused, and then said, "Look, I'm a busy man."

Original Cindy sighed and stood up. She needed all the leverage she had for this one. "I know you a busy man, sugar. But let me keep it real for y'all. You lose and arm or a leg, and Washington Meridian Insurance gonna drop twenty large on whatever's left of your ass. Which is better than nothin', aiight?" To her sheer surprise, the man laughed.

"Yeah, I guess it is, isn't it?" Before he could say more, the sharp squall of a baby sounded clearly through the phone.

"Is that your seed I hear cryin' his little head off?"

The man sighed the sigh of a father whose patience was long gone. "That's him, alright."

"What's his name, boo?" she asked.

The man's smile was nearly audible. "That would be Rogelio, jr. ma'am."

Original Cindy smiled. Not many people called her ma'am. She could get used to it. "And what's little Rogelio and the baby's mama gonna do if you stone-cold dead? No daddy, no dolla dolla. Unless you step to me, and plan for that child's future. 'Cause Original Cindy's got you covered all over like foundation makeup on a drag queen."

The man roared out a laugh. "Okay, you got me. What else can you tell me about this ass insurance?"

Before she could answer, the door to the office burst open. She covered the mike on the headset, and pulled it down a bit as three men stiffly walked over to her. She vaguely recognized two of them, but couldn't quite place them. Cocky with her win, Original Cindy loosely asked, "What can I do for you girls?"

Two of the men pulled out large guns, and pointed them directly at her.

Original Cindy felt all the blood rush out of her head and pool somewhere near her feet. She stared dumbly, as Rogelio's voice came through her earpiece, "Hello? Hello? Ma'am?"

The third man, the only one not pointing a gun at her at the moment, smiled a cold smile. "You can go ahead and shut that off, if you want. Just don't make any other sudden movements, and my team here won't shoot you."

Original Cindy swallowed and nodded slowly. She carefully reached towards the phone, and clicked it off.

The man nodded to his team, and they put away their guns. Any relief Original Cindy had at that was quickly stemmed by the third man pulling out his own gun, and pointing it towards her. "I'll take over here, gentlemen, thank you. Please take your headset off and have a seat, miss. We need to have a little chat."

Original Cindy was grateful for the direction, since she wasn't sure her trembling legs would hold her up much longer. All of her thoughts were tumbling around rapidly in her head, and she wished she could find just one that was coherent. "I…I don't have any cash, if that's what you're after," OC said, her voice shaking.

The man's icy blue eyes seemed almost amused as he cocked his head at her. "We're not here after money. We're not even here to hurt you. I'm going to give you the opportunity to walk out of here alive, if you just cooperate."

She nodded tentatively, not sure what they wanted. If they didn't want money, and they didn't want to just kill her…rape her? That thought was just as frightening. "What do ya need me to do?" she asked.

The two bruisers who had held their guns on her earlier began to move around the room, looking for other people or traps or something. The blonde man smiled, and OC vaguely thought that his smile was exactly what a shark's smile would look like. "It's quite simple," the man began. "You were at a bar tonight—"

"Crash?" she offered helpfully.

"Yes, Crash." The man lifted his gun a little more. "Please do not interrupt again. You are wasting our time."

Original Cindy nodded, and didn't say another word.

"There was a girl there with you. We need you to contact her for us."

She hadn't known she could feel any more lightheaded than she already did, but somehow she managed it. She knew exactly who they wanted. Max. Suddenly, Max's caginess made sense. It was survival. "There were lots of girls there…" she began lamely, hoping to stall any little bit while she tried to come up with some kind of plan to help her friend.

The man with the gun narrowed his eyes, and walked closer to her. He put the gun right at Original Cindy's heart, and moved his face within inches of hers. "You know exactly who I mean. You contact her for us, get her over here, and you walk away without a scratch. If not…" He turned to look at one of the other men. The muscular man picked up a coffee mug from a desk and squeezed, shattering it in his hand. The man with the gun turned back to Original Cindy. "You'll have a choice in how you die."

Original Cindy swallowed, pushing down her fear. She slowly nodded her agreement. "I got her pager number. She's usually pretty good about hittin' me back quick."

The man nodded, and withdrew the gun. He leaned back against the desk behind OC's, getting comfortable while he held her hostage.

She carefully dialed her friend's pager number, trying not to let her hand shake too much as she did it. Original Cindy didn't know whether to pray Max called her back, or hope Max ignored the page. Either way, she had some time to think.

For about ten long seconds, she and the man stared at each other. Original Cindy began to sweat. She was worried that soon they would just shoot her and answer the call themselves. _God, please help me get through this. Help me be doing the right thing,_ she prayed silently.

The phone rang.

Original Cindy nearly jumped out of her skin.

The man with the gun leaned closer to her and said, "Answer it. Use the speaker. No warnings."

As Original Cindy reached for the phone, her mind began to clear, and her tumbling thoughts started assembling themselves into an idea. She pressed the speaker button, and answered, "Washington Meridian Insurance."

"How goes it in the concrete jungle?" Max asked cheerfully.

"You know, you know…I speak my word and the peeps just give me all their money." She paused, thinking how to continue. Apparently, the man with the gun didn't like even the slightest pause, because he poked her with the gun. She continued in a hurry. "Listen, boo, there's a new club openin' tonight and I got some love with security. Why don't you swing on by here and pick me up, and we'll get our drink on?"

"Tonight's no good," Max answered.

At Max's answer, the man pushed his gun into Original Cindy's shoulder. Original Cindy closed her eyes, and knew what to do. She steeled herself. "But you gotta come meet my new hot boy, Carlito."

Max paused on the other end. "Carlito?" she repeated. 

By the suspicion in Max's voice, Original Cindy knew that Max had gotten the message. All she could do was hope that Max would pack up and leave Seattle as fast as she could. Her mind, oddly enough, seemed to calm at that thought. She was dead, but her friend would live. That was enough for her. She looked at the man with the gun, and finished the job. "He a fine-ass stud. And he got a brother, too," she added, glancing at the one of the bruisers. "Wh-what do you say? You gonna come kick it?"

"Yeah. I can kick it. I'm on my way." Max hung up the phone.

Original Cindy closed the connection on the other end, and breathed a little easier when the man lowered his gun.

"That was easy, wasn't it?" the man asked sarcastically. 

Original Cindy took a deep breath, as she began the wait for her own execution. "Yeah. Easy," she echoed hollowly. She prayed Max meant she was on her way out of town. If she was as smart as she always acted, she would be.

The man stood up and walked over to his thugs. They mumbled amongst each other, and Original Cindy heard the name "Johannessen". _Good, I want to know the name of the guy who's gonna shoot me. Plus, I was getting sick of thinking of him as the "man with the gun"._

The minutes ticked by slowly…painfully, almost. The thoughts were swirling in Original Cindy's mind once again, thoughts of her family, her friends, her life. In a way, she was saying goodbye to them all. Because…the more time that passed, the more likely Max was on her way out of Seattle and towards safety. And the closer Original Cindy was to her death.

Finally, Johannessen got fed up. "What the hell is taking so long? She should've been here by now."

Original Cindy was totally calm now. "I don't know. Girl's gotta look good." It didn't matter what she said to him. The outcome would still be the same.

Johannessen narrowed his eyes slightly as he moved back over to the desk and sat down. "You warned her somehow. Now she's in the wind." He raised the gun and pointed it directly at her chest. "And you're dead."

Original Cindy's eyes closed as she thought, _An' I will not carry myself down to die.  
When I go to my grave, my head will be high,_ as she waited for the sound of a gun shot and the bullet to pierce her heart. When a loud crash sounded, she first accepted her fate, and then opened her eyes and turned as she realized that the sound was from glass shattering. She could only catch a glimpse of a dark figure before it hit the ground and crouched for a long moment. Her still-beating heart fell as she realized who it was.

Max lifted her head and glared at the men. Blood glistened beneath her eyes as she asked sarcastically through gritted teeth, "How do I look in red?"  
  
Original Cindy could only stare as the fear flooded back into her body. _Why did she come back?_ her mind wondered as the two large men approached Max.

Max raised her fists and practically roared, "Bring it on!"

The two men leapt on top of Max, and began hitting her. Original Cindy stood just as Max threw them off, one flying through a window and the other landing on a desk. Max looked at her and shouted, "Go!"

Original Cindy ran. She sprinted out through a swinging door and fell to her knees, closing her eyes and clutching her arms close to her head, over her ears, to muffle the sounds of the violent fight within.

"Stay here," she heard a familiar voice say. She opened her eyes just in time to see Logan wheel through the swinging door.

As the sounds of the fight continued, Original Cindy willed herself to get up off the floor, but couldn't move. One small part of her felt better that Logan was there, knowing he would take care of Max for her. The other part knew that she had to do it herself. If she could only move.

A violent explosion sounded in the other room, and Original Cindy scrambled to her feet and raced to the door. The first thing she saw was Logan's wheelchair, but no Logan. Straining further to see without being noticed by the attackers, she soon saw Max, collapsed against a desk, and breathing heavily. She almost pushed open the door when she heard the clicking of a gun being cocked. She stilled as Johannessen slowly stepped towards Max. "I'll be needing that implant back," he told her.

Original Cindy couldn't hear Max's response. Her breathing seemed shallow, and she looked to be sitting up only because of the support of the desk. But OC did hear Johanessen's next comment. "You were. But with the implant in, you're dead anyway."

Cindy's heart stilled. She had thought she was sacrificing herself for Max…but it was really the other way around. Her head reeling from this revelation, she nearly missed his next comment. "Manticore transgenics are good. But you're not bulletproof."

She moved away from the door, unable to just watch her friend die. She turned to look at her surroundings and see if she could possibly find some type of weapon. She was in a storage room of sorts, so she began to quickly – and quietly – rifle through the various cabinets. As her hand touched a flashlight, the room plunged into darkness.

"Max! Move!" Logan shouted from the other room. A series of gunshots sounded, a man screamed, and then…

Silence.

Original Cindy quickly picked up the flashlight. Cautiously entering the room, she could see two figures in the dark. Taking a chance, she clicked it on, and turned the beam towards them. Max and Logan. Max was lying on the floor, unconscious, and Logan was next to her, gently gripping her shoulder. He looked up as the light fell on him, and Original Cindy could see his eyes debate her presence. 

His eyes drifted away from Original Cindy and back towards Max. Watching the blood drip from her eyes and run down her face, he took a deep breath.

"Trust me," Original Cindy interrupted him before he could say anything.

Logan's face softened slightly, and he struggled to shift position while keeping hold on Max. He finally managed to scoot a bit, and was able to support himself a little better while he reached into his jacket pocket. "I'm going to need your help," he began. "I'm calling a friend. He should be able to help us…help her." He pulled out a cell phone and began dialing.

"I know the dealio. Just hurry," Original Cindy said as she walked over to his side and knelt down, helping to shift Max so she was more on her side, and not twisted up from having most likely fallen. She set the flashlight on the floor so they could see better.

"Sebastian? It's Logan. Yeah, I've found her, but… No…" Logan gently touched Max's head, and stroked her hair. Original Cindy couldn't help the slight happy flip her heart did at the sight, even under the circumstances. Logan lifted Max's head a bit, and the happy flip turned to a sick roll of her stomach at all the blood around Max's eyes. "Yeah," Logan said into the phone, just before Max's body began shaking.

"Damn," Original Cindy gasped.

"She's seizing," Logan said into the phone. After a short moment, he turned his head towards OC, glancing at her in from the corners of his eyes. "Get the case from my wheelchair. Yellow plastic case. Get it," he quickly snapped.

Original Cindy didn't need to be told twice. She ran over to the wheelchair, and grabbed a black bag, which had a yellow plastic case in it. She brought it back to them, kneeling and examining it, just as Logan exclaimed, "Cut in? Are you kidding?"

Original Cindy looked at him aghast from the corner of her eyes. _He's got to be kidding, _she thought. But Logan then handed the phone to her as he pulled out a pocketknife.

So much had happened that night, she wasn't really surprised to hear a mechanical voice haltingly say, "Do you have it?"

"Yeah, I got it," she responded, poking a green button and watching the defibrillator flicker on.

"What is the number on the indicator?"

She looked down at the display. "It says three hundred." She glanced over at Logan, just as he began to insert the knife below…a barcode? 

"Okay, I got the end of it," Logan called over his shoulder.

Original Cindy repeated the message into the phone. "He says he feels the end of it."

"Tell him to leave the knife in, use it as a conductor, and place the paddles on her forehead and neck to deliver the shock," Sebastian instructed.

She gave the instructions to Logan. "We're supposed to leave the knife in, use it as a conductor, and zap it with these paddles. One on the forehead and one on her neck." As Logan took the cell phone from her, she couldn't help but say, "This is whack," before she handed one of the paddles to him, taking the other and holding it in place on Max's neck herself.

As soon as Logan was in position, he ordered, "Okay. Do it!"

Original Cindy poked a button, listened for the whine that signaled the charge, and clearly said, "Clear!" before she pressed the button that delivered the shock.

Max's body lifted in the air, seemingly livened by the electricity that poured through her system. After a pause, Logan set his paddle down and again touched Max's head. He caught the phone as it slid a bit, and his worried eyes examined her. "Seizure's stopped," he said into the phone. He felt her neck for a pulse, and then moved his hand to caress her face. "She's breathing normally," he sighed.

Original Cindy closed her eyes in relief, and smiled with Logan as he stroked Max's head. She let him have the moment for a few seconds, before beginning to think about their situation. "How we gonna get her out of here?" she asked him. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to be finding out if those boys have playmates."

Logan looked up at her, startled, as though he had forgotten she was there. "My car's outside, but…" he looked down at Max again. "It's not going to be easy to get her there. She's dead weight."

Original Cindy shook her head. "Uh, uh. She's live weight." At Logan's smile, she asked, "Want me to get your wheelchair, sugah?"

"Please."

Original Cindy walked over to where Logan's chair was, and rolled it over to him. She watched as he transferred into the chair, and then looked down at Max. "I guess it'd be best if you carried her. She's a bitty thing, but Original Cindy ain't no superwoman."

Logan nodded, and wheeled close to Max's side. Original Cindy gently rolled Max onto her back, put an arm around her shoulders, and carefully lifted her into a sitting position. Logan then put his arms under Max's, and together they awkwardly lifted her into his lap. He put one arm across Max's chest to anchor her in position while OC moved her legs directly over Logan's. She glanced at Logan's arm and looked up at him. "Don't go tryin' to feel up my girl while she's unconscious. Wait until she can enjoy it."

Even with only the flashlight illuminating the room, Original Cindy could see the scarlet flush rapidly move over Logan's face, and his arm quickly jerk back. At Original Cindy's throaty laugh, he glared at her. "That's not funny, Original Cindy."

"Original Cindy couldn't help it. She needed something to take her mind off the dead goons. You just happened to give her something convenient." Original Cindy and Logan carefully maneuvered around the various bits of rubble towards the door, stopping only so Logan could catch Max the few times she began sliding from his lap.

When they reached the Aztek, Logan looked at the driver's seat, and then looked at Cindy. "You'd better ride in back with her. You'll need to get in first, so you can help pull her up," he directed, locking his wheels.

Original Cindy quickly scrambled into the backseat, and leaned down, grabbing Max under the armpits. "1…2…3," she counted. She began to lift while Logan tried to push Max up the height into the car. Max stirred slightly and moaned softly as they struggled with her limp body. When they finally got her into the seat, Logan slammed the door shut, and Original Cindy scooted closer to Max, leaning the injured woman on her shoulder for support.

Logan transferred into the driver's seat, and disassembled the chair, handing the wheels and seat to Original Cindy, who set them in the very back. He started the car, and pulled away from Washington-Meridian. When they were on the road, he glanced in the rearview mirror at Original Cindy. "She doing okay?"

Original Cindy stroked an errant strand of hair away from Max's face, and reached down to her neck, checking her pulse. "She's still seems to be breathin' okay, and she's got a strong heartbeat."

Logan took a deep breath and let it out noisily. "Good. That's good." He turned his eyes back to the road.

"Logan…" Original Cindy began, but stopped.

He looked at her again, "Yeah?"

"Never mind."

He pulled up to a stop sign, put on the parking brake, and turned to look at her fully. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

She could tell by the look on Logan's face that he didn't believe her, but he released the parking brake anyway and continued to drive. "Maybe we'll have a chance to talk when we get back."

They were silent the rest of the way back to Logan's apartment building. They reversed the process of getting Max in the car, with no better results. Max whimpered softly as they finally set her back in Logan's lap, and he held her close, rocking her a bit as he tried to comfort her. When she finally settled, he released his grip, and began slowly pushing them into the building, with Original Cindy following closely. 

Up in Logan's apartment, they laid Max on the sofa in the living room. Original Cindy sat her up a bit to remove Max's leather jacket. Logan pulled some pillows from the other end of the couch and carefully placed them under Max's head as Original Cindy laid her back down, turning it sideways to take some of the pressure off of her neck. Logan looked at the blood crusted underneath her eyes and turned to Original Cindy. "Would you please go to the bathroom and get a wet facecloth? I think Max would feel better when she wakes up if she can at least have a clean face."

"Not a problem, boo," she said, turning to go. She turned back to him, "Uh…"

He smiled and pointed to a door. "That door, off the kitchen."

Original Cindy walked into the bathroom, and automatically shut the door behind her. She barely blinked at the classiness of the room, only turned to the sink. She opened the cabinet underneath…and sat on the floor. She put her head in her hands and took a deep shuddering breath. _What's happened to me tonight? To my world? I go to work to try to earn a paycheck, ending up trying to get myself killed, nearly get my best friend killed…and I got a feeling there's more to come. Original Cindy may have survived the inferno, but someone please help her with the flood that follows. _She took another breath, reached into the cabinet, and pulled out a facecloth. Her hands shook as she wet it, and grabbed a second, dry towel on her way out.

Logan accepted the offered facecloth, and Original Cindy stepped back and moved closer to one of the room dividing screens as he began to gently wipe away the blood from Max's face. After he had finished underneath her eyes, he moved to the cut across one slim eyebrow. When Max flinched, he quickly pulled away. Her eyes fluttered open, and even from her position, Original Cindy could see that the whites were now a dull, ancient yellow color.

Logan smiled. "Hey. How do you feel?"

Max swallowed thickly and took a shallow breath. "Head…headache," she rasped.

Logan reached a hand over and stroked her face. "Why don't you close your eyes for a while? Try to sleep it off?"

Max's eyes had already closed as she murmured, "Okay." Her breathing evened out, and she was silent again.

Logan finished cleaning her face, turned away from Max, and nearly ran into Original Cindy. "I think Max will be out for a while. You're welcome to catch some sleep in the guest room, if you want."

Original Cindy shook her head. "Nah, I'm a little too revved from…well. Original Cindy was hoping she could raid your kitchen, make a pot of java, and puddle around a bit, if that's aiight with you."

Logan looked at Original Cindy's hands, which were still shaking. "I'm not sure it's 'aiight' for you to be knocking back any coffee right now, but go ahead, if that's what you think you need."

Original Cindy sighed and looked at the sleeping Max. "What I need is for her to talk to me, but for now, coffee will do." She pivoted towards the kitchen, but stopped and turned back. "You like her, don't you?" she asked, repeating the same question she'd had the first time she'd _really_ met Logan.

"Who?" Logan recognized the question and replied with the same answer, smiling.

Original Cindy couldn't help but laugh, and felt some of the tension begin to drain from her body. "Max."

Logan's smile fell. He turned towards Max and exhaled softly. "Yeah. I do." He looked at Cindy again, and then gave his wheels a push, swiftly moving past her.

"S'what I thought," Original Cindy said to his retreating form. She found fresh coffee beans quickly enough in the massive kitchen, but took five minutes to find a grinder, and then another five to find the coffee maker. _Still, even though it's easier to find things in Original Cindy's four-inch kitchen, she kinda could get used to this one._ She had the coffee ground and brewing by the time Logan returned from whatever he had been doing. He nodded to her as he passed, but immediately resumed his place by Max's side, and waited.

The coffee finished brewing, the sun rose, and Original Cindy had finished half of a second pot of coffee. She had just finished pouring herself yet another cup of coffee, and was frustrated that her hands were still shaking, even hours later. The glass of the pot clinked against the glass of the mug, but she managed to at least not spill anything. She moved to the other island to see if she could get some sugar and cream to land in the coffee, when she heard Logan's voice again in the other room. She couldn't hear what he said, but her breath hitched a bit as she realized he wasn't talking to her. Max's voice rang out as a comforting confirmation, and Original Cindy strained to catch any of the words in their conversation.

Unable to understand what they were saying to each other, Original Cindy tried to calm her nerves. This was it. From here on out…

Max appeared at the edge of the kitchen. She was pale, and seemed a little unsteady on her feet. As she tentatively came closer, Original Cindy could see that her eyes had still not quite regained their normal color. Original Cindy frowned and set her coffee down on the counter. "Are you sure you should be movin' around, Max?" Max's name came out sharp and short, causing Max to flinch a little at the sound.

"I'm fine," she answered, her voice still a little rusty. "I…I think we need to talk."

Original Cindy nodded. "I think we do."

Max walked over to the worktable and leaned against it. She was silent for a moment before admitting, "I don't even know where to start."

Original Cindy eyed Max and crossed her arms. "Then define a word for me." She thought to what Johannessen had called Max. "Transgenic."

Max paled even further at the word, and closed her eyes for a moment. "A transgenic…" she hesitated, not wanting to continue.

Original Cindy stayed silent and waited. 

"Transgenic is…having DNA made of two or more creatures. It's…me."

Original Cindy straightened, and looked directly into Max's eyes, not completely understanding. "I'm not following. What d'ya mean it's _you_?"

Max swallowed and pushed forward. "My DNA…isn't just human. It's also got a little feline DNA, maybe some other random things."

Original Cindy continued to stare, unable to speak.

"Why?" Max asked herself. "They wanted to make a race of soldiers. Unstoppable killing machines. Us. Me and the others like me. We were born only for their purpose and really were never supposed to be_ human_ at all." Max's eyes turned flat, and distant, as she focused at some point over Original Cindy's shoulder. Her next words were hesitant, but as she continued, they began to rush forward, turning and tumbling over each other like a river.

She first spoke of a little of the science: fabricated DNA sequences with additional code that had been templated from various animal sources, use of cloning technology to produce an embryo, implantation into surrogates. But the science soon delved into the reality, and Max spoke of a life of being told what to do, of being someone else's property. Forced marches. Hours and hours of ruthless training. Children beaten down and killed. Of the violent seizures that spawned an escape into an unknown life. Then spending that life running, and living every day afraid of being sent back to the old life.

Original Cindy could tell that Max wasn't telling her everything, but seeing the pain flash into the woman's eyes as she deftly avoided further explanation of some of her comments was enough to keep OC silent. Finally, Max seemed to run out of words, and her voice simply drifted off. Original Cindy reached a steady hand down to pick up her coffee, and looked down at it before bringing it to her lips.

The few seconds of silence seemed to be too much for Max, because she blurted out, "Say something."

"What am I s'posed to say?" Original Cindy's head was reeling from the story. "My homegirl tells me she's not even human." And that was the hardest part to get her mind wrapped around.

"Mostly human," Max tried to joke.

Original Cindy looked down at her coffee again. The joke hadn't really helped matters any.

"I thought about telling you a million times, but…I was afraid to," Max admitted.

That stung Original Cindy's soul. Max…_afraid_ of her. Bitterly, Original Cindy asked, "What? You didn't think you could trust me?"

Max's eyes softened, and saddened as she started to explain. "When you and me hooked up…it was like all of a sudden there was this part of my life where I didn't have to be hiding, or…fighting…or anything else, except…trying to make a livin' and kickin' it with my homegirl…" She paused, and looked deep into Original Cindy's eyes. "I never had that before. A friend….I was scared that if I told you what was up, it would all change…and that you would look at me like you are right now…like I was some kind of freak you didn't even recognize."

Original Cindy was surprised to hear the tears in Max's voice…as surprised to hear Max put her own feelings into words. It was true. She _was_ feeling like she didn't even recognize Max, and was desperate to find some hint of the person…_person_… she had known. She finally broke the look and glanced off to the side, shaking her head. "Damn. All this time, I never knew."

Max's voice was hesitant as she asked, "Is this gonna change things?"

Original Cindy could only tell her the truth. "No doubt. No doubt. There's some issues here Original Cindy's gotta think on." She lifted her coffee and took another drink, and as she lowered it, she looked up, and saw…

Tears.

Original Cindy had never seen Max cry before. Suddenly, her head and her heart and her very soul seemed to clear, and she was able to see the friend she had known before this whole mess started. The one who was more _human_ than anybody she had ever met. She set down her coffee, hopped off the counter she was sitting on, and held out her arms.

Max quickly walked over and hugged her tightly. Original Cindy put one hand behind Max's head to hold her close as tears began to fall from her own eyes. They quickly pulled back, and Max sniffed a little. Original Cindy looked directly at Max, and began to speak her own truth. "You coulda died puttin' that bitch in your head. But you did it anyway to get my back. You're my boo." She watched as Max smiled. "For life," she added, and Max laughed. "No matter what," she finished, offering Max a smile of her own. "Now let me see this barcode of yours." Max turned around, and Original Cindy brushed her hair to the side. There it was, a large black barcode – a symbol of ownership. Underneath, was a small raised spot, with a cut underneath – a symbol of life, and of friendship. "Sugar, that's kinda hot, aiight?" she told Max. Both of them began to laugh at the thought. 

When their laughter died down, Original Cindy grew serious again. "I'd thought I'd lost you, had been losing you. There was so much going on and you wouldn't, couldn't, tell me anything. I want you to know that you don't have to worry about that anymore. It's just you and me left, boo."

"And that's enough," Max whispered.

Original Cindy heard a small noise, and looked over her shoulder. Logan was at the edge of the kitchen, looking mildly worried. Original Cindy smiled and looked back at Max. "Well, maybe it's not just you and me. That cool?"

Max looked at Logan and smiled. "That's cool. He makes some mean pasta."

"You should try it some time," Logan added, glad that things seemed to be going well.

Original Cindy just shook her head. "It ain't gonna be today, sugah. Original Cindy needs to bomb home and take a shower. She feels like she's been muckin' around in somethin' totally bad ass."

Max just cracked up while Logan shook his head. "You're welcome to take a shower here if you want. Plenty of hot water."

"Thanks for the offer, but now that I know Sleeping Beauty here is up and about on her feet, it's time for me to be going." Original Cindy rolled her eyes. "I think blowin' up my office means I gotta go hunting for a new job. I want to clean up a little first."

"See ya later?" Max asked.

Original Cindy looked at both of them. "Yeah. Be good while I'm gone," she said before she walked out the main door, and headed towards home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_A/N: "An' I will not carry myself down to die. When I go to my grave, my head will be high," is from Bob Dylan's "Let Me Die in My Footsteps"._

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Images - Epilogue

_Coming September 5_


	8. Epilogue

_Images - Epilogue_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"When you and me hooked up…it was like, all of a sudden, there was this part of my life where I didn't have to be hiding, or…fighting…or anything else, except…trying to make a livin' and kickin' it with my homegirl. I never had that before—a friend." _

_Max with blood dripping from her eyes…_

_"See, that's the problem. You're not being yourself."_

_Max rubbing makeup on her neck…_

_"That's okay. There'll come a day when you and me will be sittin' somewhere and the fog will lift. And you know what'll be left?" "What?" "You and me. And that's enough."_

_Bruises and a large scabbed injury…_

_"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. It's just… something came up."_

_Max disappearing…_

_"Who hurt you, baby girl?"_

_Ligature marks on Max's neck…_

_"Max is still in there!"_

_Max attending a scientific conference…_

_"I'm kind of in my own headspace."_

_Knowing the rotational velocity of a roulette wheel, pulling a straight flush during her deal…_

_"What if I told you I was a genetically revved-up female?"_

_A mysterious medical condition…seizures…_

_"It was all just a strange and beautiful dream."_

_Max jonesing over every guy at Crash…_

_"Sorry about your window."_

_A shooting, and a new friendship…_

_"2-0-6-5-5-5-0-1-3-5-7-6-3-3."_

_Mysterious nature, and secret agendas_

_"My name's Max."_

_Max…_

_Max._

Original Cindy slowly opened her eyes and looked around. It took a moment for her to place herself, but she soon realized that she was lying on the floor of her apartment. Her destroyed apartment. She sluggishly sat up, and tried to rub some of the sleep out of her eyes._ It's funny what the mind likes to rub in the soul's face sometimes,_ she thought to herself. _I feel so blind. It was always there, but any time Original Cindy came within two feet of the truth, she leaped eight feet back. Who'da thunk she'd be shy?_ She laughed at the incongruity of the truth, and slowly stood. 

"Well, it's time to leave this dream world and trip back to reality." She looked around at the disaster her apartment had become, carefully ignoring the blaringly blank spot on her refrigerator where the picture had been. "I think I'll wait on this for a while, and get ready for work. It's time Original Cindy went back to where she belongs."

She dressed mostly in black – a symbolic mourning of the losses in her world – and stepping carefully over the body in her doorway, headed off to Jam Pony.

It hadn't taken much begging, but Normal gave Original Cindy her old job back. Sketchy and Herbal Thought welcomed her back with open arms, as Max watched from the lockers with a knowing smile. The four of them went to Crash that night, although both Max and Original Cindy stuck to water. As the evening got later, Max's pager sounded, and she looked up to Original Cindy, and both smiled.

Logan.

"Gotta run," Max told them all before quickly escaping the noise of the bar.

Watching Max leave, Original Cindy slowly stood as well. "Original Cindy should bounce, too. She's got a bit of a mess waitin' for her back at the crib." A quick wave, and she too left.

When she got back to her apartment, the first thing she noticed was that the body in her doorway was gone. "And right quick, too," she said to the empty hall. "He was probably gonna be gettin' a little funky soon." The second thing she noticed was a large envelope taped to her now closed door. She opened it, and pulled out a letter from inside.

_Cindy –   
  
We found this in the office this morning, and I thought you might want it back. I don't know what happened last night, but I hope you're doing well. Don't worry about the office – we have insurance._

_- Tammy_

Original Cindy laughed at the note. It seemed that the obscenely cheerful woman from Washington-Meridian Insurance was more than she'd seemed, too. The joke was totally unexpected. Original Cindy reached into the envelope and pulled out…

…the picture.

Her breath caught in her throat as she examined the singed edges of it, but overall, it was alright. "Yeah. We're aiight, aren't we?" She swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall, and opened the door to her apartment. She carefully stepped over the mess within, and walked to her refrigerator, hanging the photograph in its rightful place. She stroked the image of her and Max, turned away and walked to the window. Staring out at the dark city, she heard the roar of a motorcycle. A man's voice cheered, "Woohoo! Ha ha!"

Original Cindy smiled.

_Life is funny, isn't it? We are confidently walking along one path, and fate shoves us down another, letting us see if we can handle stumbling along the new one. But we need to realize that the paths are really the same, aren't they? After all, wasn't the first just the image we saw, when the second was the reality? That's all that life is: an image. It is up to us to search it for the true meaning that lies beneath. And when we find that truth for ourselves, and discover that we are indeed capable of handling it, only then can we finally cheer._

_Woohoo! Ha ha!_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End

_A/N: Wow, it's really finished, isn't it? I just wanted to thank everyone who has stayed with this story. It's held a special place in my heart for a long time, and I'm glad a lot of people seem to have enjoyed it. I also owe extra thanks to Alaidh, who did an awesome beta of this story, and to Kyre who helped me with some technical details ("Do you see a light switch anywhere?"). Also thanks to Cameron and Co. for letting me borrow their characters for a while without suing me._

_ It all started with me wondering why Original Cindy didn't kick Logan's ass in "Red." I hope what it ended with was worth it._

_Peace! Out._

_- Denise_


End file.
